


Meadows of Heaven

by epeeblade



Series: Sex Corps [7]
Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Multi, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:17:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 105,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeeblade/pseuds/epeeblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hundreds of years in the future, in a galaxy torn apart by war, Commander Jeffrey Dean Morgan must team up with Lt. Jensen Ackles to rescue two lost soldiers on a planet with a society based around BDSM (bondage, domination, submission, sado-masochism). Jensen, who specializes in sexual espionage, must go undercover as Jeff's sexual submissive to prove that Jeff is a Master worthy of bringing the captive troops home. In a city made up of alien technology so advanced it's like magic they discover not everything is what it seems, including their own mission. The citizens of planet 328 have their own politics and and their own secrets. And just how far will Jeff and Jensen have to go to appease their own military, who is far more interested in the technology than in rescuing the missing men? Somehow, they must also deal with their attraction for each other and decide which is more important: duty or love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Райские кущи by epeeblade](https://archiveofourown.org/works/592934) by [Chertopoloh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chertopoloh/pseuds/Chertopoloh)



> This story was written for the spn j2 bigbang challenge on livejournal. Additional extensive notes at my livejournal, please heed the warnings.

Jensen slid out of bed before the artificial lights came up, careful not to disturb Jeff who continued to snore into his pillow. He felt his way across the room with his bare feet, not wanting to make any noise over the gentle hum of the Mercury's artificial air recyclers. If he had had more time he'd have gone back to his own assigned quarters to make this call. Really, his entire pre-mission schedule had been ruined by Commander Morgan's insistence that he stay the night.

As he slid into the chair before the communications unit Jensen looked back towards the bed, able to see Jeff now in the ambient lighting from the screen. The older man looked relaxed in his sleep, not showing any of the restless energy he wore while awake. But Jensen knew better, he felt it when his ass hit the seat of the chair, still bruised from their training session the other night.

He ran his fingers over the touch pad, calling up a keyboard and requesting a connection off-ship, all the way back to Earth. Jensen waited while the permissions went through, tapping his fingers rapidly against the desk. The comm beeped and he winced, looking over at Jeff who rolled over and began to snuggle with Jensen's pillow. "Waiting for pickup" scrolled across the screen and he frowned.

Before he could get worried Jared's face appeared on screen, his eyes heavy-lidded and red-rimmed. "Jen?"

"Hey, did I wake you?" He hadn't calculated the time on Earth, but Jensen knew Jared would rather hear from him no matter the time.

"Between shifts." Jared rubbed his forehead. "Taking a nap in one of the storage closets."

Ah. "You're at the hospital then." Jensen couldn't have been more proud when Jared had decided to go to medical school. It made a kind of sense, after spending so much time himself in hospitals, Jared wanted to be on the other side for a change, helping those who were sick and lost, like he had been. It made Jensen's sacrifices all the more worthwhile.

"Yeah. Seems like I'm always here." He cleared his throat and the image shifted, Jensen guessed he was sitting up. It was so hard to tell with the fuzzy picture. "You're going on another mission then?"

Jensen sighed, flicking his gaze over to Jeff and then back. "Yeah, we're leaving today. Don't know how long I'll be out of contact for."

"Must be pretty far." Jared tapped his comm screen. "Based on the crappy 2D reception."

"I can't . . ."

"I know, I know, top secret Sex Corps stuff." Jared grinned at him. For the seven years Jensen had been in the field he'd had to lie to his little brother about his location, again and again. They'd made this pact, to always talk before Jensen left for his next assignment, in case he didn't come back. "Who's the dude who answered the comm before when I called?"

"Commander Morgan, he's in charge of the mission." Well, Jensen thought, that was partially true. Morgan may be in command of the whole reclamation project, finding the lost colonies cut off from the United Planets over three hundred years ago, but they had brought Jensen in for his expertise, and he'd been the one to guide Morgan, to train him for the mission to come.

"He's Space Corps," Jared pointed out the obvious. He was right, though; Jensen rarely worked with any other branch of the military, unless they had to transport him somewhere.

"They needed a consultant," he explained. It was true, actually. Morgan and his men had stumbled onto a planet whose inhabitants had structured their society entirely around dominant/submissive sexual roles. Of course, typical Space Corps grunts, they had fucked it up, unable to tell a submissive from a slave. After insulting one of the subs on planet 328, the queen had seized two members of the expedition, promising to release them only if Commander Morgan could prove himself a true master. Luckily Captain Devine had known enough to call in for a Sex Corps specialist.

"This isn't the mission you were telling me about though. The long term one." The screen flickered and Jared's picture faded to monochrome. Jensen had been on leave for a month, happy to spend the time with his brother before being shipped out on a mission expected to take a least a year, deep in the heart of the Confederation, the faction the UP had been at war with for as long as Jensen could remember.

"Postponed until after this one." Jensen didn't want to think about that one just yet. He'd just gotten into the mind set for this; he didn't need the thought of the other to distract him.

"And that's it right? You're done?" Jared asked.

It would mark the end of his second five-year tour, after the next mission. So unless he signed up again, Jensen was done with his obligations to the Corps. He nodded.

"That's when we'll schedule the wedding then."

Jensen laughed. "She said yes? What, did you ask her between shifts?"

"Asshole," Jared shot back. "And maybe I did. You coming home for good would be the best wedding present."

"Jared," he started, not quite sure what to say. Jensen could never predict how the next missions would go, if he would even be coming back alive. The lights started to come up, dim, slowly, imitating natural dawn. "I have to go. I'll call when I'm back on the ship."

Jared nodded. "Right. Be safe, bro."

"I try," Jensen said, before cutting the connection. He sat back, aware of eyes on him.

"Got your call out of the way then," Jeff said, his voice deep with sleep.

Jensen nodded, before standing and walking over to the regulation box he had set down near his duffel bag last night. "We have a full day ahead of us, and that's before we even land on 328. Do you mind if I shower here?" He asked while gathering up a black jumpsuit, so unlike his normal red uniform.

If they were an actual couple and not forced together for the sake of this mission, Jensen wouldn't have asked. He wouldn't have needed to. But in a few hours he'd be completely immersed in a submissive persona, pretending to belong to Jeff so Jeff could style himself a true master for the queen of 328. Asking permission would need to become second nature.

"Go ahead." Jeff tilted his head towards the facilities. "I'll start up the coffee. Like you said, we got a long day ahead of us."

***

Jeff hadn't woken up exactly how he'd planned when he asked Jensen to stay the night. They'd been fucking for the past four days, as Jensen rushed Jeff through his own training program in an attempt to polish Jeff into a competent looking dominant. But he wanted to wake up next to Jensen, slide his arm around his slim waist, rub his cock against those hard, muscled buttocks, his lips nibbling over the love bites he had left around Jensen's neck just the other night.

That night he'd had Jensen on his knees, wearing a black leather collar and completely at his mercy. Jeff, to his surprise, had liked it, liked how the dark collar looked against that pale, fragile skin, how Jensen had obeyed with nothing more than a 'yes, sir.' Yeah, that might have hit a kink Jeff hadn't known he had.

It hadn't been like that with Katie. He had never felt the need to make her submit. And although their lovemaking had always been passionate, sometimes rough, handcuffs and ropes had never made an appearance. Jeff pushed himself out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats before padding over to the kitchenette to start the coffee. He wondered if he'd ever wake up and not think about his dead wife. You'd think another naked body in his bed would have killed all such thoughts.

She'd only been gone for eighteen months. Not enough time for Jeff to forget, not even running around in the ass end of the galaxy, trying to hunt down the remnant of the colonies cut off from the UP three hundred years ago. And Jensen may be the naked body in his bed, but Jeff didn't have a relationship with the soldier, other than the one forced by this mission. He might have picked him up in a bar somewhere, if Jeff had had that choice. This, though, this was something else.

Jensen came out of the shower just as the coffee finished dripping into the standard issue pot. His damp hair curled slightly, and his face looked pink and freshly scrubbed. The black duty uniform suited him, the lack of color only made his green eyes stand out all the more. Jeff frowned, wondering about those eyes and what trouble they might cause once down on the planet.

"I figure I'll go check that the supplies are all packed on the shuttle," Jensen said, taking the mug Jeff pouring for him. "That way you don't have to worry about rushing your meeting with the captain."

Jeff nodded. He had grown accustomed to letting Jensen take care of the details for this mission. They worked well as a team, and thank the stars for that, the lives of two men depended on it. "Good idea. I'll see you in the shuttle bay for takeoff then."

Jensen winked and threw him a sloppy salute. Jeff couldn't resist swatting him on the ass before the younger man left. Well, he thought with a grin, that was one way to maintain discipline.

***

The Mercury was unlike any starship Jensen had traveled on, built larger and for long-term exploration instead of war. He had spent most of his career on ships with dark hallways, bunks crammed into small spaces with rows of soldiers berthed on walls in order to make room for weapons technology. Of course, he never served on such ships, often he was just there for the ride, shuffled from one assignment to another. Jensen definitely approved of the brighter atmosphere of the Mercury. In a perfect universe, all ships would be like this one.

He stepped out of the lift for the shuttle bay, nearly colliding with one of the supply carts being driven along the deck. Soldiers streamed everywhere, carrying crates, double checking specs, all getting the shuttle ready for the return to 328. Jensen ducked through the confusion, intent on checking what actually had been loaded onto the shuttle.

"What, did Morgan let you off your leash?"

Jensen closed his eyes at the grating voice; he shouldn't have been surprised. He'd known Lieutenant Justin Hartley had been assigned to the reclamation project, even if Jensen had convinced Morgan to keep Hartley off the roster for the return journey. The two of them had history, and Hartley had made no secret of his dislike for Jensen.

"Don't you have some stock boy duties to attend to?" Jensen shot back, never one to back down when challenged. That tendency had led to more than one black eye, although not always his own. He turned to face Hartley, who stood with his arms crossed beside one of the supply carts, leaning against the smooth plastic.

Hartley snorted at Jensen's words. "I know damn well you made sure I wasn't setting foot on planet."

"Whatever you tell yourself, Lieutenant," Jensen said, wanting to go on his way, but not willing to turn his back on a rival.

"Thanks for that, by the way." Hartley smirked. "Sure as hell ain't risking my ass down there. But I wouldn't have to worry about that anyway, you giving yours away for free."

Jensen winced, unable to help himself. He opened his mouth to respond in kind, but never got the chance before Corporal Maggie Gyllenhaal pushed a crate between them.

"Lieutenant," she said, nodding at both of them. "I brought some of my tools, I hope there's room in the hold?"

"I'll take care of that, Corporal," Hartley said, grabbing her crate and adding it to his cart.

She waited until he'd gone out of hearing range before saying softly, "Is it always like that, for you?"

Jensen scratched at the back of his head, not wanting to frighten her. Gyllenhaal's brother had been tapped for the Sex Corps, and she'd asked Jensen for some advice to help the kid make his choice. He'd be doing her a disservice to lie. "Hartley and I have history," he said finally, not really answering her.

Maggie tilted her head, giving him a shrewd look. "I wouldn't be surprised," she said, ignoring his answer. "There are plenty of assholes in the Corps."

He laughed. "I knew you were smart, Corporal."

***

Jeff entered the captain's ready room; pack slung over one shoulder and tablet in one hand. Everything seemed ready to go, and he was prepared to tell the captain so. She stared out through the observation screen, which mimicked an ordinary window, showing a view of space and the planet they orbited. Jeff hoped he never got too used to the sight of the stars, or the way a planet looked, like a giant marble hovering in the middle of nothing.

"Captain Devine?" he asked, hesitant to interrupt her.

Loretta Devine turned around and gave him a small smile. This past week hadn't been easy on her either. Jeff might have been busy learning what he needed to fool the inhabitants of 328, but she had to sit and wait, knowing two good people had been left behind as hostages. "At ease, Commander."

He set down his pack and nodded. "We're all ready to go. Ackles is overseeing the shuttle, and my people are all on time."

"I didn't expect any less, Morgan." She approached the dark faux wood table. "I received orders from the admiral."

Why did those words fill him with dread? "Oh." He waited for her to continue.

"Rescuing Major Tappen and Dr. Johnson is your secondary objective, Commander. The senators want a deal brokered, a UP base on 328 and access to the alien technology."

Jeff wished he could say he was surprised. From the moment they stepped into the strange city with its automated trams and intelligent force fields, Jeff knew his superiors would want to get their hands on this tech. However, the technology hadn't been their priority at the time, his team too disturbed by the half-nude people in collars and on their knees. Dr. Johnson in particular had been especially vocal in his opposition to slavery.

After all, he said, wasn't that what they were fighting against, in the never-ending war against the Confederation? The Confeds relied on slave labor, and the UP would have none of that. It wasn't the only bone of contention between both factions, but Jeff had long given up caring about the minutia of the war. Those bastards had killed Katie and they could all burn for all he cared.

And maybe the tech on 328 could help with that, final victory over the Confederation. No, Jeff couldn't say he was surprised at all. "Am I given carte blanche to negotiate?" he asked.

"Nearly," Devine said, her shoulders sagging. "Run everything past me before you agree to any terms, however. That should keep you out of too much trouble."

"Understood," he said. He hefted his pack and waited for dismissal.

"Commander," Devine started. "Be careful down there. Watch out for Ackles. Ferris would have my hide if anything happened to him."

He threw her a smile, remembering his conversation with General Ferris and her bitten off order to take care of Jensen. "I'd offer her mine if I did let anything happen to the kid."

Devine let out a little laugh. "You say that now, Commander. Check in when you land. Dismissed."

"Sir!"

***

Jensen hadn't sat next to him in the shuttle and Jeff felt annoyed about that for about two seconds before he realized Jensen would be glued to his side every moment once they landed on 328 and probably needed the space. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten annoyed at all, but for Jensen sitting next to Corporal Maggie Gyllenhaal. She hadn't originally been part of his team, Jensen had asked for her to join the mission after befriending the young soldier. Her brother had enlisted and was asked to join the Sex Corps, and Jensen was probably the first Scut she had ever met.

Jeff eyed the rest of his team, wondering if the same was true for most of them. Scuts – Sex Corps sluts – were often the target of jokes around the Space Corps barracks. They served on their backs, or so the collective wisdom went. He wondered if he would need to give his 'respect Jensen as a fellow soldier' speech again, but Jeff knew his team, he'd only had to say something once for it to stick.

He looked them over now, the ones who'd been with him the first round on 328, Chikezie, Whitfield, and Brown who was piloting the shuttle. Jeff knew he could count on them. The civilians were the unknown here, officially part of the project, but under Dr. Lauren Cohen's command, not his. Of the twenty crew, he mentally picked out those he'd bring back to the city. Jensen, of course, Chikezie who was a medic, Dr. Barrese one of the diplomats Cohen had sent, Whitfield for some muscle and maybe Sampson to give the young Lieutenant some experience. He'd leave Brown in charge of the base camp.

"Twenty minutes to landing," Brown said. "Same location as the first time."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Commander." Jeff turned and buckled himself into his seat, standard procedure just in case the dampners failed upon impact. The landing, however, was smooth. Brown fired the thrusters at just the right moment and they settled on the ground with hardly an impact.

"Listen up people," Jeff said, before they could unbuckle and disembark. "Ackles, Chikezie, Barrese, Whitfield and Sampson, you're all with me. Brown take command of base camp. Set up the standard environmental sensors and probes. I will check in once we arrive at the city, and an hour after that. Remember, we have to play this carefully. We've got two good men in a hostage situation. No hot heads, all right?"

A chorus of "yessirs" answered him and Jeff nodded at them. "Step to it, then."

Brown opened the door and the crew began to disembark. Jensen came up to Jeff and said softly. "I'm going to get into role now. There's no telling how far their cameras can probe."

They had been able to see his base camp from the city last time, and Jeff didn't know if they could penetrate the shuttle's hull. "Right. You remember your signals."

Jensen flashed him a grin and held up his hands, going quickly through the motions they had agreed on beforehand, the only way Jensen would be able to communicate with Jeff if he had to be tied up and gagged. "Good boy," Jeff said.

"Speaking of that." Jensen reached into one of the many pockets on his uniform and pulled out a thin black strip, the collar they had played with before. Here, on 328, this meant so much more than mere play.

"Let me." Jeff took it from Jensen and placed his around his neck, doing the clasp carefully. Setting that line of black around Jensen's pale throat did something to him, and Jeff wanted to lean down and suck another line of hickies all down Jensen's neck. He refrained; here the collar would be enough to claim his ownership.

"Thank you, sir," Jensen said, his voice different, more submissive. So, Jeff thought, it begins.

He gathered his crew of five just outside the shuttle and they started hiking the two clicks to the city gate, through the forest of lush green plants and sandy soil. Jeff hadn't looked at the environmental reports, there hadn't been time for that, but he wondered at the tall trees, wondering of any of these had been brought from Earth those three hundred years ago.

They came through the forest into the clearing around the city and he heard Jensen gasp beside him as the tall golden spires suddenly came into view. Jeff grinned at him, pleased at the reaction. The vids they'd brought back hadn't done justice to the beauty of this place, nor how spectacularly it glistened in the sun, more like a mirage than anything real. It seemed to stretch on for forever, as far as the eye could see, tall towers and curved bridges. Jeff knew that the city sat overlooking the ocean, but it was so large they couldn't tell that from this approach.

"It's beautiful," Jensen whispered.

"Wait until you see the inside," Chikezie told him with a grin.

"Come on, let's get this over with." Jeff stalked up to the golden gate that kept them from entering. This time, however, the gate did not move at their approach, but stayed stubbornly shut. Jeff frowned at it, wondering how he could communicate with those inside. He had been invited to return, after all, once he could prove his mastery.

Beside him, Jensen reached out and touched the gate, pulling his hand back almost immediately once he made contact. "It's warm," he said, then trailed his fingers over the metal again, entranced by the feel.

As he spoke, the metal in front of them began to swirl and shift, forming into a screen. A man's face appeared. "Who approaches?" he demanded. Jeff didn't recognize this guard from the group that had welcomed them the first time around.

"I am Commander Jeff Morgan," he said. "Your queen invited me to return when I could prove myself." He jerked a fist towards Jensen. "I've brought my boy, if that's enough proof for you."

The guard didn't say anything and the screen blanked out for a good five minutes. Jeff raised his eyebrows at Jensen, not sure what that meant. And then the guard returned. "I have orders to only let you and your sub through. No one else."

Jeff had only a split second to make the decision. "Fine," he said, "but I need to make sure my people get back safely."

The guard nodded and the screen blanked again before swirling back into just another part of the gate.

"Commander," Whitfield protested. "You can't go in there alone."

"I won't be alone," Jeff said lightly, although he knew what Whitfield meant. "Head back to camp, and comm me when you get there." He looked over at Jensen. "You all right with this?"

Jensen nodded, but didn't speak. He did, however, give Jeff the hand signal that he was fine, so that had to be something.

"Commander," Chikezie began. Jeff turned his gaze on her, wondering what protest he would get next. Instead, she just said, "Bring Major Tappen and Dr. Johnson back safely."

"That's the plan, Lieutenant," he said. "Now get marching!" As they fell back into the woods, he pulled out his comm and contacted the Mercury to update Captain Devine. She wasn't happy, called him a damn fool, but told him to go ahead.

"Remember your mission directives, Commander." Her voice over the comm sounded tinny and far away. He wondered what the hell on this planet interfered with their communication like that. Signals from the ship should be coming in loud and clear.

Although the captain's reminder to him was damn clear. Everyone else thought he was here to rescue his men, but only Jeff knew the true purpose of his mission here. His stomach twisted at that thought, wishing he could have at least shared the secret with Jensen, who'd guessed part of it, actually, before they had ever stepped foot on 328. "Yes, sir," he told the Captain and signed off.

"Sir," Jensen said, catching his attention.

The gate began to peel open, sliding apart and rippling like the scales of a fish, the golden material really a myriad of sparkling colors. It opened far enough for a man to fit through, instead of the full welcome they had received during their first mission. Stars, Jeff thought, he must have fucked that up more than he'd imagined. "Let's go, follow me," he told Jensen.

And then they entered the city.


	2. Chapter 2

Corporal Maggie Gyllenhaal had just started unpacking her equipment when Commander Morgan's team broke through the brush, sans the man himself and Jensen - Lieutenant Ackles. Ackles wasn't anything like she'd expected him to be and more importantly, he was not a walking Sex Corps stereotype. She'd worried about that at first, not understanding how the Corps could want to draft her brother as part of their ranks. The only time she'd seen evidence of Jensen's calling was when he'd asked Jeff to put that leather collar on him. Then, with his eyes lowered and full lips pouted, Maggie could see the sensual creature that lurked beneath his brisk, no-nonsense shell.

Jensen had asked for her presence on this mission, and she still didn't know why. She'd been assigned to the Mercury, not the reclamation project. This was her first away team mission ever, and she promised herself she'd outshine any other tech the project had ever had. She'd repay Jensen's faith in her that way, by doing her job.

"Whitfield, report!" Lieutenant Commander Sterling Brown snapped, stalking across the base camp slowly being assembled in the clearing. Morgan had left Brown in charge, and Maggie had to admit she found the commander a bit intimidating.

"Sir." Whitfield stood at attention. The entire camp had gone quiet, waiting to hear what he had to say. "When we arrived at our destination only Commander Morgan and Lieutenant Ackles were permitted to enter. Morgan told us to return to camp."

Maggie bit her lip at that news, how the team had shrunk to only Ackles and Morgan. They would be without any backup, forced into roles they had no idea how to act out. She knew Ackles had gone into far more dangerous situations, into the Confederation itself. Even though the citizens of this planet were an unknown variable, they hadn't killed anyone yet and seemed willing to talk first. That was far more than she could say for the Confed.

"He reported in with Captain Devine, sir," the other Lieutenant - Caroline Chikezie - put in when Whitfield had finished.

Brown shook his head. "Damn fool. All right, I want a team on standby camped just outside the city. If Morgan calls for backup we're not going to be far." He whirled around, "The rest of you, get back to work!"

Maggie put her head down and continued unpacking her equipment. Others moved past her, carrying the tent that would serve as the barracks for all of them. She felt a thrill of excitement thrum through her, eager to get to work and prove herself.

***

Jensen followed Jeff, a pace or two behind and to the left a bit, the way a good subordinate should, although he had no idea about the rules of this place, how submissives were supposed to act. For all he knew, he should be on his knees and crawling behind his master. Well, mistakes had to be expected, it was how he dealt with them that would determine the success or failure of this mission.

They passed through the gate and the force field mentioned in the reports, the one that stripped them of weapons. It did so again this time, although Jensen hadn't brought one, expecting this. He watched, amazed, as Jeff's laser pistol just hovered away from his body and was snatched up by some invisible force. Incredible, the UP had no technology that could do that, separate weapons from a man without even a search first.

Inside, they stepped onto patterned streets, something like cobblestone, but not, it felt too soft under Jensen's boots. However the faux stone melted into a mosaic, a pattern of rich colors, bold blue and dark green, leading the way into the heart of the city. At the end of this main road, however, a blood red coach waited for them.

"It's one of the trams," Jeff said, looking around. "Last time we were met with a score of guards."

Jensen regarded the tram: short, rectangular, without any wheels or propulsion system he could make out, and large oblong windows all along the side. "Maybe it's a show of good faith," he said, not specifying on whose part. "Trust."

Jeff nodded. "Stay close. I don't like the quiet."

"Yes, sir," Jensen said, inching forward until their shoulders touched. He took comfort in the physical contact as they boarded the tram.

He wasn't sure what to expect, maybe tiny bucket seats like most of the public transportation he'd ever been on, but certainly not the plush couches along the windows, and more of that soft floor in the center. Jensen waited until Jeff took a seat, then knelt at his feet. The windows were so huge that he could see out, even from this angle.

Jeff made a strangled noise in his throat at Jensen's action, as if he had forgotten what they needed to do here. Jensen shot him a sharp look, Jeff couldn't forget he was the master here, and Jensen his to command. Unless, Jensen thought, watching as Jeff swallowed hard, the way his pupils dilated, Jeff hadn't forgotten at all, he'd just hadn't learned to school his own reactions to it.

Jensen hid a smile and turned his attention to the windows, startled to see they had already taken to the air. He couldn't feel the motion of the tram at all, which made him slightly nauseous, to watch the buildings speeding by. They glided in a curving arc, ducking beneath bridges and around towers. The deep blue of the ocean suddenly became visible, a rippling backdrop as they came upon the golden palace.

"Wow," Jensen whispered.

Jeff chuckled at his exclamation. "It's something else," he agreed.

The tram drew closer to the palace, the tallest tower in the entire city, docking along a good-sized terrace decorated with ivy and other climbing plants. A man waited for them, a guard by his uniform, Jensen guessed, based on the images he had seen of the first mission, the gold lined armor and laced up sandals.

"Come," Jeff ordered, leading the way out of the tram and onto the ledge. Jensen stood to follow, but he dropped to his knees again when the guard drew forward to speak with them.

"Commander Morgan?" the guard said. "I am Guard Ian."

"I remember you," Jeff said slowly.

"Yes." Ian looked away, his eyes only flickering quickly over Jensen. "The queen is busy at the moment, but she has asked Duchess Claudia to greet you."

Jeff nodded, as if he knew what that meant. "Of course."

"If you will follow me." Ian turned and led the way through two glass doors.

Jensen stayed close to Jeff, eyes lowered as proper, but he caught as much as he could out of the corner of his gaze, noting the rich carpeting, the paneled walls and artfully arranged furniture.

"Duchess, I present Commander Morgan and his sub," Ian said.

The duchess sat on a large lounger, wearing a low cut gown of pale silk that flowed around her as she rose to greet them. A sub knelt at her feet, a man nude but for a skirt of leather tied around his waist and a red leather collar at his throat. Jensen regarded him carefully, taking note of his posture and gaze, remembering it for later.

"Commander. What an odd title," the duchess mused as she grew closer. Her dark hair flowed in thick curls down her back. "Well, you've been the talk of the city, Commander Morgan."

"All good, I hope," Jeff said lightly.

Luckily she laughed. "Well, that remains to be seen. I am Claudia, Duchess of the Black District. This is my sub, Misha, whom I believe you've already met."

Oh, fuck, Jensen thought. That was the sub who had been so insulted by Dr. Johnson, and caused the two men to be taken as hostages. To his surprise, Misha looked up at his name and gave Jensen a smile and a wink out of amazing cornflower blue eyes. Jensen looked away, embarrassed at being caught staring.

Jeff nodded in Misha's direction. "And this is my sub, Jensen."

She stepped forward and touched Jensen's chin, forcing his head up. He tried not to look at her directly, that would be rude, but she searched out his eyes purposely and gasped. "His eyes . . . I've never seen such a color before."

His heart pounded hard against his chest and Jensen wondered if the game had ended before it had even begun. They had guessed that eye color had something to do with how subs were chosen on 328, based on the men who had been taken as hostages, the only members of the party with blue eyes. But no one was sure what Jensen's green eyes would signify.

"Yes," Jeff agreed, "they are spectacular aren't they?"

Jensen could feel the color rising in his cheeks at the praise.

"Beautiful," Claudia granted, letting go of Jensen and stepping back. "I apologize for touching your property Commander, I had to be sure . . ." She shook her head. "Curious. We will have so many questions for you."

"I look forward to them," Jeff said.

Claudia nodded. "The queen has given you a suite for your use while you stay and you are invited to formal dinner tonight. I have instructed Misha to tutor you in the proper way to behave." She smiled. "If you will have him."

Jeff swallowed before replying. "I have no objections."

"Misha."

"Mistress," he replied, pushing himself to his feet gracefully.

"Show them to their rooms and some of the palace. I think the first order of business is some new attire." Claudia gave their uniforms a disdainful look. "You may escort them to dinner as well, I will wait for you there."

"Yes, Mistress," he said with a little bow.

She ruffled a hand through his hair with another smile on her face, one solely for him. "I will see you this evening then, Commander."

"Duchess," Jeff said.

And then they were left alone with Misha.

***

Well, Jeff thought, there were certainly more awkward things. Like the time he first met Misha and the sub had stripped and offered his body to Jeff's entire team. Yeah, it would be hard to top that. Having to deal with Misha now, after that, that came pretty darn close though.

Especially when Misha leveled those huge blue eyes on Jeff. Like so many of the citizens of 328, Misha had that same otherworldly beauty. Funny, Jeff thought, Jensen had that same quality. He should fit in here at least. Jeff worried more about himself, how he was supposed to prove himself a worthy master when he wasn't even sure what that meant.

"If you will follow me," Misha said politely. "I will show you to your rooms." He led them down the hall and to a set of doors more like the doors Jeff was used to, tall and rectangular, set flush with the wall. "If you touch the panel next to the lift," Misha explained, doing so. "You will call the next car."

The doors opened revealing an elevator with glass walls that looked out over the city. Misha stepped aside and motioned for Jeff to precede him. When he did Misha and Jensen exchanged looks, but entered at the same time, Misha wearing a little smirk before turning back to Jeff. "Your suite is on the green floor. Just touch the wall and think of your location."

As Misha did so, the doors rippled shut, more of that odd tech. Nothing slid or operated on hinges here, Jeff thought, everything flowed like solid water.

"How does it read your thoughts?" Jensen asked, staring at the panel instead of appreciating the view through the glass.

"The spirit of Harmony knows all of our hearts," Misha said, as if it should be obvious.

"Ok, wait, stop right there." Jeff held up his hand. He vaguely remembered Ian saying something like that when Jeff's team had first encountered the guard. "Who's Harmony?"

Misha turned that wide-eyed gaze on him. "Harmony is the city," he said.

Finally, an answer. But what an answer! Jeff looked out at the golden spires and towers. How could a city have a spirit? Was it controlled by one central computer? He didn't know of any computer that could read someone's mind, not in the way these people casually used their technology.

Misha showed them to their quarters - a rich suite of rooms consisting of: a sitting area with plush couches, a desk and thick tapestries along the walls; a playroom, as Misha called it, with wooden planks at strategic places, and a trunk to fill with toys; a bedroom with the largest bed Jeff had ever seen and bathroom with a sunken tub.

"If this is what you give to guests what are the queen's rooms like?" Jeff blurted in awe at the sight of the bedroom. He ignored the playroom for now. With luck they wouldn't have to use it at all.

Jensen set down his pack on the side of the bed. "Sir, should I put the equipment in the playroom?"

Equipment? Jeff blinked, not sure what Jensen meant, but belatedly realized he meant the sex toys he had showed Jeff back on the Mercury. Jensen had brought them with him? What, did he think they had a shortage of them on 328?

"You brought your own?" Misha asked, curious. "May I see? I am curious how different you are in that respect."

"Knock yourselves out," Jeff said, dropping his own pack on the bed. His had spare clothing, rations, a first aid kit and the regulation survival kit required for off-planet missions. He wondered if Jensen had brought any of that or ditched it in favor of toys. Well, the toys had to be part of Jensen's standard mission kit, Jeff thought.

"I don't know," Jensen began, tugging his pack open and pulling out several items. "what is acceptable here. You'll be our guide, won't you?" He turned those fluttering eyelashes on Misha who fell for them just like Jeff had.

"Oh, of course," Misha said. "That's what my mistress wanted, so you know how to behave properly."

"Not like we behaved before, you mean," Jeff said dryly.

Misha lowered his eyes as he spoke, "It is not very polite to threaten to take a sub from his mistress."

Jeff snorted. That was one way of putting it! He was not going to explain to this willing sub that Johnson thought Misha to be an unwilling slave. Thinking of Johnson led him to ask, "Do you know where they've taken my people? The man who insulted you and the other?"

Misha looked up from his perusal of Jensen's sex toy collection. "My mistress said they had been taken to the Royal Schola for training."

"Training," Jeff repeated dully. "As subs?"

"Of course." Misha touched something in the pile of sex toys. "That would be acceptable to wear to a play party, or a formal dinner with entertainment."

Jeff looked over and could only make out some scraps of leather. "That a . . . the harness?" he reminded himself to not sound incredulous at the last moment. He was supposed to be a regular user of all these tricks in Jensen's bag.

Jensen gave him a smile. "Yes. I take care of all the equipment," he said to Misha as if explaining to him, but Jeff knew damn well it was directed towards him. "What else should I wear? I guess our uniforms are too restricting?"

Misha wrinkled his nose. "They are so unfashionable. You would bring down the entire mood of dinner. Oh, that reminds me, I need to take you to the clothier. Otherwise you won't have anything better for dinner. Come, you may leave your things here. These rooms are yours, no one will disturb them."

Misha led them back to the lift, down to nearly the bottom levels, where, he explained, blocks of rooms were given to vendors who provided services to the Royal family, like the clothier. "There's also a leatherworker, and a collar master. And a discipline master, but I've heard the queen never uses him," Misha chatted as they walked, and Jeff kept his ears open, hoping that Jensen understood more of this than he did.

"Dom Traci?" Misha called as they entered.

"One moment, luv!" a feminine voice called before she made an appearance, a tall slim woman with a mass of wavy dark hair and a friendly smile dressed in the same bright colors Jeff had seen from everyone in Harmony. 

"Oh, Sub Misha, what a treasure to see you. Are these your mistress's guests?"

Misha bowed slightly in her direction. "They are guests of the queen. I have been given the honor of teaching them about our ways."

"Well, of course." She reached out and patted his cheek. "Who else? Now," she turned her attention towards Jeff and Jensen. "They don't believe in color where you're from?"

"These are our uniforms," Jensen explained.

"Hmmm," she frowned. "Strange for a sub and dom to dress that much alike. Well, I am more than happy to oblige. Has the queen set up accounts for them?"

"Oh, I don't know," Misha said. "I didn't ask."

"Accounts?" Jeff asked, worried they had forgotten something else.

"Of course. My services aren't free you know." Dom Traci gave him a wink. "But we can get started, I'm sure the account will be there when I look. Would you like to go first? Or do you wish to dress your sub first?"

"Let Jensen go first," Jeff said, pretending not to see the glare Jensen threw his way.

Traci asked Jensen to step on a pedestal and hold his arms slightly out from his body. A ring of light surrounded him, tracing the lines of his body before disappearing back into the base.

"There, I have your measurements," Traci said. "Hmm. I think your sub would look best in green, don't you?"

"I suppose," Jeff said. He didn't know how much interest he needed to take in dressing Jensen. Would it look bad if he didn't care so much?

"Of course, the best subs look good in very little at all." She grinned at him. "If you don't have a preference, I'll have a selection delivered to your rooms, later."

Thank the stars, Jeff thought. The last thing he wanted to do was spend time picking out clothes when they needed to worry about other things – like rescuing Tappen and Johnson, and somehow getting the queen to agree to a UP base on her planet. "Thank you," he told her.

After Jeff's turn on the platform, Misha took them to the public baths. "The best place," he said "to refresh yourselves from your journey."

"And learn how to behave in front of others," Jensen said in a low undertone.

Yes, Jeff thought, it was time to start acting like Jensen's dom.

***

Jensen wondered if Jeff could do this. They hadn't really had to act in role so far, nothing had been any different than Jeff acting like a commanding officer. But now, in these public baths, Jensen worried Jeff wouldn't be able to be convincing in front of others.

"This is my favorite place," Misha confided to Jensen in a soft tone as they stripped in the small room before entering the baths. "My mistress has bound me here many times."

"She isn't . . ." Jensen bit his lip, needing to phrase this delicately. "Possessive? About others using you?"

Misha shot him a look. "I'm a red-collar. You don't have those where you come from?"

Jensen shook his head. "I don't know what that means."

"I've been trained to share my body with many others," Misha explained, he shot a look over towards Jeff, who was still unlacing his boots, before moving closer to whisper to Jensen. "I chose to take the training when I was very young. It's rare, but I just," he shrugged, "I needed it."

"You like it," Jensen said, realizing he spoke before he thought. At the blush on Misha's cheeks, he realized he might have hit a nerve. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly.

"No need," Misha said. "Few of the other subs understand. They think me little more than a tavern boy." He snorted. "Come, let me show you the baths."

He led Jensen through into the steaming room. More of the mosaic tile here, this time in tiny intricate patterns along the floor, walls, and bases of fountains that poured water over eager bathers. Misha showed him a set of shackles over a bench set into one of these fountains. "My mistress chained me here once." He went into the position, putting his hands on the chains and bending over, giving Jensen a pretty view. "Let me be used for an entire afternoon."

Jensen shivered at the thought of being tied down and left for anyone to take advantage of. He couldn't imagine Jeff doing the same, standing back and watching as male after male plowed into Jensen's ass, while he hung onto the chains, helpless to prevent it.

Someone whistled and Jensen came back to himself abruptly, realizing he was half-hard in the baths. He ducked under a rush of flowing water, wetting his hair and covering, he hoped, the red flush rising in his body.

The whistler asked Misha if he were up for grabs and Misha flirted for a moment or two before admitting he was busy with showing around the queen's guests. Jeff finally entered the baths at that moment.

He stalked into that room like he owned the place, with a commanding stride and a smoldering gaze only for Jensen. Jeff's cock curved against his thigh and thickened as he drew closer. Jensen stepped out of the spray of the shower, aware of the water beading on his skin, his hair dripping down his forehead.

When Jeff reached him, he took hold of Jensen's collar and pulled him forward, till they were nose to nose. "Turn around and brace yourself on the tile," Jeff all but growled.

Jensen swallowed, his dick filling just at the sound of Jeff's voice. "Yes, sir," he gasped as Jeff let him go. He turned, bending over as Misha had done before, finding handholds that wouldn't slip and spread his legs.

A slap against his ass had him starting. "Slut," Jeff said, but it sounded affectionate.

"There are several kinds of oil for your use." Misha was still trying to be helpful.

Jensen bit his lip to keep from groaning. He bowed his head, aware of the crowd that drew around them, eager to watch this claiming. Shivering, he lowered his lashes and tried to see out of the corner of his eye, to track exactly what Jeff was doing back there.

And then warm water rained down against his back, running down his buttocks and onto the tiled floor. Jeff had moved one of the showerheads, so that Jensen was under the flow again, surrounded by running water as Jeff probed between his ass cheeks.

"Please," Jensen gasped. This was his trade, he knew how to make it look good, how to get their audience caught up. Hopefully word of this would get back to the queen, and Jeff would be one step closer to proving his mastery.

Another slap against his ass, followed by Jeff's hand, warm and caressing. "We're on my timetable, boy."

Jensen shivered, throwing his head back and gasping. Slowly, almost too slowly, Jeff probed his entrance, slicking him with some oil, hopefully it wouldn't wash away from the constant water. Then, as the head of his cock pressed against Jensen, Jeff leaned forward, one hand on the wall next to Jensen's as he ordered, "Beg me now."   
He groaned. "Please, sir," he begged. "Fuck me, I need to feel you in me, please!"

"Do you deserve it?" Jeff asked, pushing forward just a little bit, but still nowhere near enough.

"No," Jensen gasped out. "But take me anyway!"

Jeff let out a little chuckle, but he moved, finally, sheathing himself fully inside Jensen's body. Jensen curled his fingers tightly, bracing himself further against the fullness inside him. He could feel Jeff everywhere, inside and around him, the shower pouring over both of them. And then Jeff started to move and Jensen moaned at the slip and slide of it.

"Please," he begged again, and Jeff moved faster, his hips rolling against Jensen, who tilted his ass back to meet him.

Jensen struggled to hold back, knowing he could not come before Jeff gave him permission. But he wanted to, badly, so hard under the watchful gaze of their audience and Misha, who stayed near by. Jensen wanted to warn Jeff, but they didn't have a hand signal for that.

And just when he thought he couldn't stand it any longer, Jeff leaned down again and gasped out "come" before clamping his teeth down on Jensen's shoulder.

Jensen yelled out in shock, but that didn't stop him from coming in hot pulsing waves against Jeff's hand.

Jeff pulled out, slowly, and Jensen could feel the slickness inside him. "Easy," Jeff said, helping him ease off of the wall and onto his knees.

"Let me bathe you, sir." Jensen asked, taking a handful of the thick soap available from pumps throughout the baths. It smelled like cedar and smoke and would compliment Jeff's natural scent perfectly.

Jeff swallowed, his eyes dark. "Go ahead."

They got a few comments from the crowd around them, but most dispersed as Jensen soaped up Jeff's body, running his hands over tight muscles and smooth skin. As he did Jeff's back, he whispered in his ear, "Good idea." Hell, it had been a fucking fantastic idea. Jensen felt boneless and well-used, and it was only the first day. If the bath had been this invigorating, he could not wait to see what dinner had in store for them both.


	3. Chapter 3

Maggie frowned down at her scanner.  It had been several hours since Morgan's team had returned, and she'd managed to get all the instruments set up and calibrated for the scientists. She'd gone into the shuttle and had run reports to make sure the data was being collected correctly. And that's when she'd spotted the anomaly.

Squaring her shoulders, she copied it to her tablet and went to find Lieutenant Commander Brown. Maggie knew all the instruments were set up correctly, she'd checked and double checked her own work. No, this reading needed to be reported.

"Commander Brown," she said, swallowing against the dryness in her throat.

He looked up from a tablet, and raised one eyebrow. "Corporal?"

"I've found…sir, there's a weird energy reading."

Brown snorted. "Gyllenhaal, there are plenty of weird energy readings coming from that city."

"But it's not," she blurted. "Coming from the city that is. It's about five clicks in the wrong direction."

He straightened. "Are you sure?"

She turned her tablet around and showed him. "It's very faint. I can see how the first team would have missed it; the city puts out so much more energy. But it's clearly to the west of here."

Brown frowned at the tablet. "How in blazes…?"

"Sir," and now here she needed her courage. "I'd like permission to go check it out. Sir."

Brown eyes flickered up at her, taking her measure and hopefully not finding it wanting. "Let me break this to the captain first. Then we'll see about sending a team over. Clear, Corporal?"

"Yes, sir." Maggie beamed at him.

***

They had found the clothes Dom Traci had sent already arranged in the wardrobe and drawers in their suite of rooms. Jensen asked Misha to pick out appropriate wear for them out of the selection, the woman had outdone herself with the amount of choices available. But that made him wonder how long exactly the queen expected them to stay in Harmony.

"No leather pants," Jeff grumbled as Misha sorted through the wardrobe.

Jensen gave him a look over Misha's back, remembering how Jeff had decried all leather trousers on the ship. "If that is the proper attire," he said, "We should at least consider it."

Jeff made a face in Jensen's direction, smoothing his expression as soon as Misha emerged with his selections. Lucky for them, it did not include leather pants.

"I will show you," Misha said, "So you may dress your master as is appropriate."

Jensen worried there might be something too complicated, but luckily Misha referred mostly to the sash that tied around Jeff's waist, and doing up the laces along the sides of his black, but not leather, pants.

"I think Mistress Traci is fond of your assets," Misha said, handing Jensen his own clothing for the evening – a kilt similar to Misha's, but with the sides bare. Jensen's thighs would be completely uncovered.

Jensen looked over at Jeff, who had been quieter than normal since the scene in the baths. Jeff had to get with the program, quickly. They didn't have time to get over his embarrassment. He shook his head and asked Misha if that was what subs wore all the time.

"Only if they're meant to be on display." Misha pointed to the clothing in the drawers of the wardrobe, Jensen's share of the loot, and he saw more normal things there like pants and tunics similar to what Jeff had on. "And for a formal dinner, all subs are on display."

"I'm going to report in," Jeff told them. "Keep getting ready for tonight."

"Yes sir," Jensen said, watching as Jeff left the bedroom, wondering what the hell was going through the man's mind.

***

When Commander Morgan's call came in, Captain Devine had Ensign Smith route it to her personal comm. "Nice to finally hear from you, Commander." She took it into her private ready room and dropped into the comfortable chair she'd insisted on when taking command of the Mercury. A captain needed comfy seating to make the hard decisions, after all. "Report."

"Jensen and I have been given temporary quarters in the palace," he began, referring to Ackles by name for the first time in Devine's hearing. It sounded odd to her ear, though she knew damn well this call was most likely monitored. Morgan couldn't afford to make any slips.

"We've been given a guide to the ways of the city, the sub of one of the duchesses. His name is Misha." Morgan paused for a brief moment. "He's the same one Dr. Johnson insulted during the first mission."

Well, of course, it was what Devine would do, if she wanted to test how Morgan reacted once he'd returned. "Continue, Commander."

"Misha has been extremely helpful," Morgan said and Devine had no idea how to take that, though her mind conjured up quite a few interesting pictures. She wished they had solved the problem of the poor transmission from the planet, she would have liked video to go with Morgan's dry reporting. "He's taken us to get proper attire and showed us around some of the more interesting elements of the palace."

"Proper attire?" she asked.

"Apparently our uniforms make poor fashion statements. And Jensen is expected to wear more revealing clothing during the formal dinner we've been invited to this evening."

"Sound like you've been making good progress, Commander." Not that she expected anything less.

From the moment she had met Jeff Morgan, he'd been constantly challenging her expectations. He had the reputation of a hero and a hotshot, his actions during the attack on the Alfani space station still spoken about, even over ten years later. Devine had known men who'd let that label define them, who'd expect to be treated a certain way. But Morgan had walked onto her ship a broken man, still in mourning for his wife.

Not that anyone could tell, really. She had known because she'd had access to his records, saw the transfer notice as an effort on behalf of Morgan's therapist to save his career after the loss had nearly broken him. But Morgan had swept in, taking over the reclamation project and instilling loyalty in each and every Corps member on his team in less than a month. Devine didn't know what had caught them all so thoroughly: Morgan's realistic down-to-earth nature, his willingness to do any and all work, no matter how menial or his refusal to accept any special treatment due to his status. She suspected it was a little bit of all three.

"I don't know how long we'll be here," Morgan said. "Clearly we're expected to stay overnight, after this formal dinner."

"Just keep regular radio contact, Commander. I don't want to have to send anyone in after you," Devine replied. They didn't need to lose anyone else in pursuit of the damn alien technology.

Devine didn't know what her superiors expected. It was tempting, to be able to out-tech the Confed for once, to have the newest and shiniest weapon. They might start making gains then, instead of slowly losing planet after planet in the border zone. But she'd seen the video, the sensor readings, and none of that made a lick of sense. How were they going to translate that almost magical tech into something they could use?

First thing first, Morgan had to succeed in his mission. She had no doubts about him, or Lieutenant Ackles either. General Ferris had never steered her wrong in her recommendations before, and she'd pulled Ackles from his planned mission specifically because Devine had asked for the best the Sex Corps had to offer. But Devine couldn't control the hundreds of variables down there on 328, she could only review reports and hope for the best.

***

"Yes, sir. Morgan out." He closed the comm and took a moment. Jeff had escaped the bedroom to make the call, but now he found himself in the playroom, as Misha had called it. The giant X in the center of the room, the boxes of sex toys, the chains on the wall, all reminded Jeff of what was expected of him. Jensen had told him that people enjoyed this kind of thing, but Jeff still found himself unable to completely understand.

He'd enjoyed what happened in the baths. Stars, of course he had, who wouldn't enjoy fucking Jensen's pert little ass? But the rest of it, making Jensen beg, showing off for the people in the baths, Jeff didn't know he had it in him.

Damn it, Morgan, he thought, you can't lose it now, not when you're so close. He had to bring that dominant persona back, had to live and breathe it for the entire mission. Mistakes like doubting himself could get both Jensen and he killed.

Jeff turned to go back into the bedroom, when his eye fell on the trunk Jensen had begun placing his toys in. Maybe he'd get inspiration here. He flicked it open, and then smiled, this, this was perfect.

***

Jeff charged back into the bedroom, brandishing Jensen's harness in one hand. "On display, you said?" he looked to Misha for confirmation and when the sub nodded turned to Jensen. "You will wear this as well."

Jensen blinked at the sudden change in Jeff, he had that same charge of personality that had emerged in the baths and Jensen only hoped Jeff could hold on to it. "Of course, sir."

"And this." Jeff let a long thin lead fall from his other hand. A leash.

Jensen could feel his cheeks burn. Oh, Jeff was trying to kill him, he thought. This felt like more than just a role. Jensen hadn't been able to indulge in his submissive desires for a long time, and then usually only as part of his duty. This felt like something he'd do willingly. He'd have to be careful not to fall in too deep.

"Yes, sir."

Misha led them to the Great Hall once they had everything sorted out. Jeff had clasped the leash to the o-ring at the front of Jensen's collar and kept the handle in his right hand. He never went so far ahead that Jensen felt a tug at his throat, but he expected Jensen to keep up.

Whatever Jeff had decided during those few moments he had left them, Jensen was glad of it. Now he didn't have to worry about Jeff falling into his role and could worry about more pressing things. Like if they were behaving appropriately.

Misha touched the wall and opened a portal to the room, gesturing that Jeff should enter first. The Great Hall, Jensen found, was an enormous room, with colorful crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, banners of gold and red along the wall. A huge table took up the center of the room, each chair had a large pillow placed just beside it. To Jensen's surprise, people already lined the table clothed in various forms of outlandish dress. Jeff's black pants and forest green shirt were down right tame in comparison, although it made him stand out, and, Jensen admitted, Jeff looked damn good.

The pillows had to be for the subs, though at the moment, they stood behind their masters, each pair looking as if they were waiting for something. Misha's mistress held out her hand and he went to her side, kneeling for her to ruffle his hair before standing behind her.

"We await the queen," Duchess Claudia said. "She will introduce you."

No sooner had Claudia spoken than a horned fanfare started up, seemingly coming from all directions at once.  Jensen looked for musicians, but couldn't find the source. All eyes turned towards the wide staircase at the head of the room. Jensen saw Queen Michelle Tal for the first time.

The queen paused at the very top of the stairs, giving all a moment to adore her, and yes, Jensen thought, she looked the very picture of regal, with her sharp cheekbones and carefully schooled face. Blond hair piled in an intricate collection of curls behind a golden crown. Her strapless gown glittered like mother of pearl, parting from a slit in the very center as she moved down the stairs, revealing her long legs and sharp pointed heeled shoes.  Jensen could not look away from her sharp gaze, and he could well imagine this was a woman who held power.

A young woman walked beside her, her dress much more sedate, but colorful. Her blond hair was left free and loose. Unlike the Queen, she smiled as they descended, her expression friendly and open. Behind them both followed a man, the Queen's sub, Jensen supposed, based on his golden collar and leather clothing.

Jensen hadn't seen a golden collar before and his eyes flicked to the other subs around the room, counting the variety of colors and made a mental note to ask Misha about them later. He knew what red meant, but Jensen needed to know more before he misstepped. Who knew what the black collar around his own neck meant?

"Welcome," Queen Michelle said, still standing on the steps, about halfway down so everyone had to look up at her. Well-done, Jensen thought. "We are doubly blessed during this most holy of seasons, to have guests from beyond the stars."

Jensen would have expected whispers here, but these folk were far too disciplined to allow for it.

"Commander Morgan," she continued. "And his sub?"

"His name is Jensen," Jeff supplied at her prompting.

To his surprise, Michelle turned her gaze to him. "Welcome, Sub Jensen."

He bowed his head, not knowing if it were proper for him to speak.

"You have come during our time of Choosing," she went on, "And so you find the royal five of Harmony all in one place. You have already met Duchess Claudia and her Primary, Sub Misha."

Jensen noted that term - Primary. Did Claudia have other subs besides Misha?

At her introduction, Claudia grinned at the two of them. Michelle moved on, introducing the older man next to her as Duke Leonard and his sub, a very young girl named Alisha. After him stood a woman with coffee colored skin the queen named Duchess Rachel and her sub Amanda. And next to the empty chair on the side, the one Jensen supposed Jeff would be assigned to, stood a dark haired man with a glowering gaze and his blond sub, who had kept his head lowered during the entire introduction.

"Duke Adrian and his sub." The queen paused here and took a deep breath. "Peter."

The girl beside her made a small sound and covered her mouth with her hand. Jensen didn't know why, but figured it had something to do with the sub. Perhaps they once had something between them?

"And this," the queen put her arm around the young woman, ignoring her out of place outburst, "is my daughter the Princess Alona. And my Primary, Sub Fredric."

Jensen repeated each of the names to himself. It would not do to forget at an inopportune moment.

"You may be seated. Misha will lead the subs to the kitchen."

Oh, Jensen realized, they must be expected to serve their masters. Jeff unclasped his leash and he filed in behind the line of subs, minus the Queen's sub, oddly enough, to another alcove along the wall to the room behind it. It didn't look like any kitchen he'd ever seen, lacking some basic things like a stove for one. There was a slim metallic table in the center, with an odd looking hood over it. Trays of food covered the table, plates of finger foods, they looked like pastries and sweet meats to Jensen, not seeing anything he's consider a main course among the selection.

"Jensen," Misha said, coming up beside him. "Can you pour? I don't expect you to know all the courses."

Jensen hefted one of the pitchers on the edge of the table. A sweet fruity aroma floated up from the drink. "I should be able to. Is there any order?"

"Queen and then the princess," Misha said, "Then you can go around the table. Everyone thereafter is equal rank."

"Should my master be last then?" Jensen stumbled over the word 'master' realizing that it was the first time he had referred to Jeff thus.

Misha frowned and tilted his head, as if such a thing had never occurred to him before. "But he is an honored guest. Would that make him first? L…Peter, do you know?" he turned and asked the quiet sub Jensen had noticed. The young man still kept his eyes lowered, not even looking up when Misha addressed him.

"It depends on his rank," Peter answered softly. Jensen liked his voice, deep and slightly breathless. "Even as a guest. But the queen seated him on the same level as a duke, so you may treat him as such. Her word is law."

"Thank you," Jensen said, but the young man still didn't look at him. The other subs didn't keep their fascination with him a secret and snuck looks, or outright stared. This reticent young man intrigued him. Of course, Jensen thought, he always was fascinated by the ones who had no interest in Jensen himself.

He noticed Peter wore nipple rings, and a loincloth that barely covered his groin and ass. Leather bands circled his wrists, upper arms and ankles. Like Jensen, he wore a black collar. He was the only sub barefoot. Jensen himself wore a laced up pair of sandals Misha had said were acceptable. This sub was certainly a mystery.

"Come, we've taken long enough," Alisha snapped at them, deftly hoisting a large tray over one shoulder. "Just follow us, Sub Jensen, and you'll do well."

She gave him a bright smile as she led the way out of the room. Jensen noticed that her collar was blue. Like Misha, she wore a simple leather kilt, although unlike him, a matching corset tied up her waist, propping her breasts front and center. The other female sub, in contrast, had her breasts bare, save for a silver chain encircling them and attached to her blue loincloth.

He carried his pitcher and followed the line back, doing as instructed and serving the queen first. Jensen knew she watched him, could feel her gaze heavy on his back as he poured the pale red liquid into her goblet and then her daughter's.

"Thank you," the princess whispered to him, to his surprise. She seemed very young, he thought, despite looking well into her twenties.

Jensen nodded in her direction and moved clockwise around the table. The doms were asking Jeff about the stars and he caught Jeff in mid-explanation about the Isaac wormhole.

"While the wormhole was extant, ships frequently traveled between my world and yours, in a fraction of the time it would normally take. That's why so many colonies were started out here. But once the wormhole collapsed, we lost all contact with everyone who had left."

"And ships that travel through space, like our trams?" Claudia said, resting her chin on her folded hands. "I suppose that wormhole was like a tunnel?"

"Sort of." Jeff took hold of one of the cloth napkins on the table. Jensen kept watching, fascinated at the by play. "This corner is Earth. Here, is your planet, see how far they are? A ship would have to travel this distance normally, however the wormhole made it so one entered space here," he pushed his knife in one end "and exited here, without traveling any of that distance."

Jensen wondered if Jeff felt hampered by being unable to delve into higher physics with his explanation.

"So if the wormhole collapsed," Rachel put in, "Then how are you here now?"

"Our technology has changed in three hundred years. We now have ships than can travel much faster than the ones that first settled here."

Jensen kept his snort at that to himself. The uber-light speed technology had only been around for about fifteen years. And Jensen himself was the reason the UP had any access to it at all. He doubted Jeff knew about that.

"And why are you here?" Leonard asked, slow and sure, his gaze leveled heavily in Jeff's direction.

"Some of the same reasons we came in the first place." Jeff gave him that easy smile, the one that set everyone at ease, that called men to follow him into danger. "Exploration of the unknown. Knowledge. But mostly to reestablish contact with our colonies. Start up relations, maybe trade. Let you know that we're still here."

"We hadn't known that you were lost in the first place," the queen said with an arch of a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

Jeff chuckled, just as Jensen came around the table to fill his goblet. "I'm surprised," he said, "that you don't have stories, legends, about coming from beyond the stars."

"We do," Claudia spoke up, surprising Jensen. "But that's all we thought they were, stories."

After Jensen finished pouring, he turned to see the other subs taking their places on the pillows. Setting the empty pitcher down on a side table, he moved to Jeff's side and knelt on the plush surface, his back straight and his palms resting on his thighs. The others began to eat, and Jensen hoped Jeff had the sense to wait and watch what they did.

The queen started first, taking a bite for herself, then lifting a tasty morsel to feed to her sub. He licked her fingers delicately and gazed up at her with a seductive grin. She smiled fondly at him, and picked up another bite.

Jeff took the cue and when the others started to feed their subs, held out a bite for Jensen. Of course most of dinner consisted of finger food, Jensen thought, chewing the puff pastry carefully, all the better to feed the subs with.

When it came time to drink, Jensen watched like a hawk, wondering how these doms would go about it. Would they pour some liquid in a dish and leave it on the floor for the subs to lap up like a dog? The queen dipped her fingers in her goblet and let her sub catch the droplets with her tongue. Claudia, to Jensen's surprise, merely held out hers for Misha to drink from. But the most startling was Adrian, the man to Jensen's left. He took a deep gulp and then crushed Peter's face to his, forcing their mouths together as he fed the drink that way. Normally, Jensen would think that was incredibly hot.

But not when Peter's eyes were shut so tightly tears leaked out of the corner of them, or how he raised his hand to wipe his mouth, not looking at his master. No, Jensen thought, something was really wrong there.

"Mostly, we just want to learn more about you." Jeff was doing his part to keep up the dinner conversation, ignoring the tableau to his side. "Your culture is rather . . . different to us."

"Not too different," Rachel said with an eye towards Jensen.

Claudia turned to her. "But have you seen his eyes? His sub has green eyes. I didn't know such a thing was possible."

"May I see?" Rachel asked and before Jensen knew it, he was being inspected by three curious doms. He tried really hard not to blink.

"Enough, let the boy finish his dinner," the queen snapped. "You'll have plenty of time to inspect him. Especially since they will be staying for the Choosing."

Jeff asked "The Choosing?" as the others went back to their seats. He took the opportunity to feed Jensen some more, and Jensen licked his fingers gratefully. Their gazes met, and Jensen tried to give encouragement in his.

"It's the time of the year to make contracts. When subs choose and are chosen." The princess spoke this time, looking like she could hardly keep still in her chair.

"Alona will choose her first sub this year." Queen Michelle looked at her daughter fondly.

First, Jensen thought, as if there would be more than one? He needed more information; they were operating practically blind on everything.

"More tye before we begin the floor show?"

As the heads nodded around the table, Jensen realized they were speaking about the drink and he scrambled to retrieve his pitcher and find his way back to the kitchens. He was aware of chairs moving and other subs moving around and serving more food as he searched for the right alcove. Ah, there, Jensen moved a curtain aside and found himself back in the odd kitchen. He set the pitcher on the table and looked around for another, puzzled. Perhaps there was a faucet somewhere he needed to get more from?

Don't be stubborn, he thought, moving to duck back into the room and ask, but he heard voices just as he was about to shift the curtain back. Jensen stilled.

"You shouldn't be back here, Alona," came the first, low and hissed. Peter, Jensen thought.

"I won't get another chance to talk to you, Levi," Alona said, her voice low, but sounding almost panicked. So, Jensen thought, he was right, these two had history.

"It's Peter," the sub corrected her.

"How can he do that? Just give you a new name?"

"He is my master." Peter sounded tired. "I am subject to his will in all things."

"You can break the contract during the Choosing. I'll tell mother."

"No!" Peter snapped. "Don't speak of this to mother. You know it upsets her."

"Levi, it upsets me."

They were brother and sister? Jensen thought, having to reevaluate the entire situation. Obviously Alona didn't care for Duke Adrian, but how the hell had Peter – Levi – whatever his name was, ended up with him anyway? Jensen backed up, not wanting to interrupt the rest of the conversation, he needed to find more tye anyway. When he got back to the table, his pitcher was already filled to the brim.

"Ok, not too creepy," he murmured, looking around, but still found himself alone in the room. "Thanks?" Jensen said to the air, and then turned back, knowing they were waiting for him out there.

Peter passed him as Jensen left, heading for the table for another tray. Jensen hesitated for a moment, but he had nothing to say, not without admitting he had overheard that conversation. With a sigh, he headed back out to the main hall.

Only to find the table had disappeared and the doms all now lounged in settees, each having their own half couch, low to the ground with the sub's pillow just before it. Rachel's sub had her head in her mistress's lap, and the duchess carded her hand through soft blond hair absently. The goblets had moved to tiny end tables, and Jensen scampered to fill them and take his place. Peter appeared with his tray, placing a plate of dessert on each table, just a shade behind Jensen.

"Will Misha be the first?" Queen Michelle asked and Jensen wondered what he had missed.

"Misha is always the first," Rachel said.

Claudia stood and gave a gentle bow towards the queen. "We are honored. Come Misha."

Jensen settled on his pillow just as Misha stripped himself of his kilt and crawled into the center of the circle at his mistress's feet. He kissed the tips of her shoes, then clasped his hands behind his back, so he knelt with his cheek to the floor.

"I had thought, since today is a very special occasion," Claudia began, "to offer his use to our guest." She nodded in Jeff's direction.

Jensen felt Jeff stiffen behind him. He leaned back till his bare back made contact with Jeff's leg. Don't look to me, Jensen thought, you can't be seen as weak, even if you say no. If ever there was a time to wish for telepathy, this was it.

"Since I am new to your city," Jeff said, "Allow me to watch and learn before I act."

Claudia smiled at him. "Well said, Commander. I've seen how you look at him." She drew a hand across Misha's well-rounded buttocks. "I'll leave the offer open, for when you feel ready to take what you want."

Jensen didn't know if that was a dig or a generous offer. These people were so confounding!

"I appreciate that," Jeff said, and though his tone was dry, he maintained control of the situation, and that was the most important thing.

Why did Jensen feel as if they'd barely dodged a missile?

***

"Well," Jeff said as Jensen closed the door to their suite behind him. "That was interesting."

"I think we learned quite a bit," Jensen said, the evening's events running through his mind. He'd need time to process it all, already he had dozens of questions to throw at Misha once he could get the sub alone for a conversation.

Jeff dropped onto the bed and started pulling off his boots. Jensen dropped to his knees and began to help, giving Jeff a pointed look. They had to act as if they were being observed at all times, they had agreed to that before leaving the Mercury. If that made things more difficult, well, Jensen had to bear it. The only thing he regretted was being unable to discuss the situation with Jeff, share his insights and evaluate Jeff's. Jensen didn't realize he'd miss those conversations on the ship, the constant dissection of why exactly anyone would participate in the lifestyle, never mind enjoy it.

"Still no mention of Tappen and Johnson." Jeff frowned. "Maybe she's waiting for me to bring it up."

Jensen tilted his head to one side and thought about it. "Maybe it's the kind of thing you don't talk about in public. We'll have to see if you can get a private meeting with her. Maybe ask the princess tomorrow." Alona had invited Jeff to come with her as she scouted potential subs at the market.

"Mmmm," Jeff said. "I don't suppose you have any advice on how to handle that?"

Jensen opened his mouth to reply, setting Jeff's boots off to the side, but a knock had them both looking up. "Who?" Jensen murmured.

"Stay," Jeff said, climbing to his feet. "I'll get it." He touched the wall next to where a door should be and it shimmered open revealing, to their surprise, a boy who couldn't be older than twelve or thirteen. He had wide blue eyes, shaggy blond hair and dressed in a long tunic and leggings. Jensen realized this was the first child he had seen since setting foot inside the city.

"Queen Michelle has sent me," the boy said with a little bow, "To ask permission to have a private audience with your sub."

Jeff exchanged a quick look with Jensen. "Come on in, kid." He stepped back and let the boy enter. "She wants to see him right now?"

The boy nodded.

Jensen shrugged at Jeff, giving him the hand signal that he was all right with the situation, if Jeff wanted to send him.

"You should go," Jeff said quietly. He was right, Jensen thought, here was their chance to start negotiating getting Tappen and Johnson back.

Jensen nodded and turned to the boy. "What's your name?"

"I am Colin." The boy grinned and gave a little bow with a hand flourish, as if he'd been practicing.

Not 'Sub Colin' Jensen noticed, nor did Colin state the name of his master, as most subs did when introducing themselves. "Are you a sub, Colin?" he asked, giving in to his curiosity.

"I will be," Colin bit his lip, looking uncomfortable. Jensen wondered if he'd asked something he shouldn't have. "Thought I'm two years away from even beginning training. The queen lets me work as her page."

Jensen filed that away. "Well then, Page Colin, what does one wear to a private audience with the queen?"

About fifteen minutes later, Jensen followed Colin through the halls of the palace, his kilt and harness exchanged for a tunic that wrapped around his waist, leaving most of his chest bare, and a flowing set of leggings. He felt slightly more covered, and less worried about what exactly the Queen would ask of him during this meeting. Jeff had already begun pacing, even before Jensen had left their rooms, and Jensen wondered what shape he'd find the carpet when he got back.

Jensen guessed that normally Colin must be pretty chatty, because the boy looked like he was about to burst, fidgeting on his heels as they waited inside the lift. Through the glass, Jensen caught sight of the city, lit up with gold and blue lights, like jewels on a black canvas. He pressed a hand on the panel, marveling at its beauty, from here everything seemed quiet and serene.

Finally, Colin let out what he'd been holding in during the walk to the elevator. "Everyone is saying you're from the stars. And no one can believe you've got green eyes and they don't know what that means . . ."

"Wait, wait. Who is everyone?" Jensen smiled down at him.

"All the other subs," Colin said impatiently. "And mama and papa."

"Colin, how many subs does the queen have?" Jensen asked, just at the lift came to a halt.

"Oh, two hundred and twelve. Thirteen when Sophy has her baby."

Jensen swallowed his shock, and a good thing too, because they had come to the very top of the tower, where the queen had her quarters. The elevator opened its doors to a well-furnished sitting room, with sculptures on fancy end tables, erotic tapestries hanging on the walls, and curious-eyed subs in various modes of display. Some lounged on loveseats, while others were bound - one to a pillar in the corner of the room, another hog-tied and gagged on a table. Colin led them through this not saying a word until they reached a door with two guards on either side.

"Good luck, Sub Jensen," Colin told him, leaving Jensen to enter as the door shimmered open.

Much like the other rooms Jensen had seen, rich dark furniture and thick tapestries decorated this sitting room. But unlike the suite he and Jeff were assigned, this place seemed lived in at first glance -- a platter of food on an end table, a stack of what looked like tablets on another table, a line of portraits along one wall, stacks of fluffy pillows around every couch and chair. And there was the queen, sitting in a low lounge chair, pondering what looked like a game board on the small table in front of her.

She smiled at his entry and Jensen immediately dropped to his knees and lowered his eyes. He had no idea what to call her - Queen Michelle? My Lady? Your grace? He wished he had asked Colin before the boy just left him.

"You'll find I don't suffer groveling easy." Her voice came from his right and Jensen realized the queen had stood and come to his side. "I would prefer it, Sub Jensen, if you waited until asked before kneeling."

He swallowed, not looking up. "Yes, uh, ma'am?"

The queen coughed, swallowing, he realized, the sound of her laughter. "You may address me as mistress," she said, dropping back into her lounger. She no longer wore the outlandish garb of before, instead Michelle tucked in the folds of a very comfortable looking robe. "And you may kneel on the other side of this table."

Jensen stood and made his way to the directed pillow, where he sank to his knees carefully, regarding the queen out of the corners of his eyes. As he did so, another door opened up on the other side of the room, and the queen's sub - Fredric he recalled - entered, carrying a mug of steaming liquid. He knelt to the queen's right and held it out for her.

"Thank you, love," she said softly before taking a sip, still regarding Jensen.

He kept very still, knowing any fidgeting would look undisciplined.

"Have you ever played tournabout, Sub Jensen?" she asked, tilting her head towards the game board level with Jensen's chest.

He look a look at the game pieces, arranged similarly to a chess board, but instead of the black and white pieces he had seen before, Jensen realized the tiny pewter pieces were made in the shapes of different animals. Each had gems for eyes, the ones on Jensen's side were green and blue on the queen's side. "No, mistress," he said. "I have never seen this game before."

Michelle reached out to pick up a piece, the tallest on the board of a noble looking lioness. "The object of the game is to get your opponents forces to join your side. It combines negotiation and strategy."

Much like life on 328, apparently. "May I?" he asked, reaching out for the board. At her nod, he lifted one of his pieces, a tiny frog with bright green eyes. "It's warm!" he exclaimed, surprised at the feel of it, slightly disturbing in his hand. Jensen stroked the top of the head of the frog and nearly dropped it when the figure's head moved in his direction.

"You haven't seen its like, have you?" she said thoughtfully. "Your pieces will aide you in play. Share a game with me, Sub Jensen." The queen briefly went over the rules before placing her piece back on the board. Jensen put the frog down carefully, wondering if the queen had ever seen any of these animals before, or if this was a remnant from the colony that had been, over 300 years ago.

She moved first, a tiny rabbit forward, and kept her eyes on the board as she questioned him, distracting Jensen a bit from his own pieces. "I am curious about your eyes. Do all subs from your world have green eyes?"

Jensen looked up, forgetting about trying to appear submissive. "No," he said. "Not at all."

"Then how are subs chosen?" she appeared mystified.

Jensen moved one of his rabbits, chagrined when the queen's group circled his and the green-jeweled eyes changed to blue. "It's not so much chosen," he began. "Some people feel called to be a submissive. Others dominants. Still others don't take part in that lifestyle at all."

She frowned. "What a disordered world you must come from. How is anything accomplished when its citizens don't know their place?"

He had to agree with her, thinking about how much pain and misery had come from the war that would not end, how no one would agree, how day to day living seemed so precarious. "It is our way," he said, trying to smooth things over. He had to ask though. "And subs here, all have blue eyes?"

"The eyes are the windows of the soul," the queen told him. "From birth so is our destiny revealed. But none, neither sub nor dom has ever been born with green eyes."

"So that's a yes, then." Jensen felt a flare of victory. He'd been the one to suggest the eye-color theory, since no one else could figure out why out of Jeff's group of five, only two men were taken. He pushed his frog piece forward, wondering how he could bring up the missing people.

"How long were you in training?" she asked, one hand absently stroking her sub's hair. He'd leaned into her side, until his head was all but propped on her lap.

"Four years," Jensen answered, and that was the truth. He'd spent four years at the military academy, learning, in addition to boot camp, how to ply the sexual arts. He just hoped she didn't ask how long he'd been with Jeff. "But our ways are very different. We don't wish to make any further insult, but you must understand our way of life is nothing like yours."

"Hmmm," she said, leveling those dark eyes on him. Jensen felt small under that gaze. He imagined this woman had no trouble commanding her 200 subs! "You seem to be doing quite well. Unlike your predecessors."

"We learn from our mistakes." He tried to move his swan piece forward, but the swan turned and went back to its place on the board. Instead, his wolf stood and walked over to the Queen's group of rabbits, which all changed to green. "Oh."

She didn't hold in her laughter this time. "I told you your pieces would aide you. The wolf intimidates the rabbits, you see."

"Instead of eating them," Jensen murmured. He wondered which of them was the wolf. "Mistress, when you do plan on releasing the two men you have taken?"

"I don't know your master, sub," the queen began. "I can only guess at the kind of man he is until he proves himself in how he treats you. Until I am satisfied, well, I must keep my own word. I will release them when he shows himself a proper master."

"Will you at least speak with him?" Jensen asked. He wondered why she had set this meeting up with him and not Jeff in the first place.

"Words are one thing. Actions are another. You should know this, as a sub. A master can promise anything you desire, but you cannot trust him until he acts." Darkness clouded her face and Jensen was sure she was speaking of someone besides Jeff.

"My mistress," her sub spoke for the first time, lifting his head from her lap to touch her cheek with one hand. Jensen could see the love he had for her, and knew these two were connected, in a way a dom and sub should be.

Before the queen could reply in kind, that back door shimmered again and two subs appeared in the doorway, a young man and a woman with a toddler in her arms. "Forgive us for interrupting, my mistress, but Carly would like her goodnight kiss."

"Of course." Michelle rose from her seat, no less graceful and majestic for her robe. She took the child from the girl's arms and tickled her chin. "You be a good girl and go right to sleep for your mama."

The child giggled and allowed her cheeks to be thoroughly kissed before the queen handed her back to her sub. Then Michelle kissed both subs, wishing them a restful sleep.

Jensen tried not to stare, so instead he found himself meeting Fredric's gaze. He saw no jealousy there, Fredric seemed more concerned with Jensen himself than his mistress's other subs.

Michelle came back after the door shimmered closed on the little family and Fredric raised his head. "If I may speak, my mistress?"

"Please do," she told him.

"I believe Sub Jensen is right to ask more about our ways. Let him and his master learn before we judge them."

"As I was thinking. Did you find Sub Misha a helpful instructor?" she directed this to Jensen.

"Yes, mistress."

"Good. I'll confer with Claudia, see if she can spare him for a few more days. I think we have much to learn from each other."

Jensen couldn't agree more.


	4. Chapter 4

Maggie shielded her eyes from the morning light from a pale yellow sun. When they'd learned that Commander Morgan would be staying in the city overnight, Devine had sent another shuttle with supplies to set up a base camp in truth, including more shelter and sleeping quarters, and one of the Planetary Exploration Vehicles they used to explore beyond the range of the camp. All because of Maggie's request.

They'd driven about five clicks from the camp, moving at a good rate of speed before Maggie shouted, "Slow down!" to Whitfield, who was driving.

He pulled to a stop and looked back at her. "Corporal?" Lieutenant Chikezie asked. Sterling had sent the three of them to check out Maggie's weird energy reading, putting Chikezie in charge.

Maggie liked Chikezie, she was friendly, smart and no-nonsense. Unlike Whitfield, who'd been wheedling her since they left about her finding something that none of them had the first time around.

"Don't even tell me we've been going in the wrong direction," he said now.

Maggie shook her head. "We're close. I don't want to risk rushing right past it." She held her scanner in front of her and hopped off of the PEV, barely aware of her fellow soldiers following. The energy reading spiked suddenly and she pushed forward through some vegetation, looking up only at the last moment.

Luckily Whitfield grabbed her arm and pulled her back before she tumbled down the valley she'd been too engrossed to notice.

"Watch where you're going!" he snapped.

"I was watching the energy readings." Maggie turned to glare at him.

Before he could respond in kind, Chikezie interrupted both of them. "What the hell is that?"

Maggie turned to look, down into the valley at something large and covered with overgrowth. The shape of it, long, at least the length of the valley, seemed familiar somehow. Sunlight glinted off of a section of it, where some of the plants hadn't completely covered. Suddenly she knew what her discovery had to be. "It's a ship," she gasped.

"That doesn't look like any ship I've ever seen," Whitfield muttered.

"No, but does it look like the ships they built three hundred years ago?" Chikezie asked.

"We have to get closer, get inside," Maggie said. "See if they left any records."

"And if we can decipher them." Chikezie grabbed her comm. "I'll tell the Lieutenant Commander. This clearly needs more than just the three of us."

She moved back towards the PEV to make the call.

"Guess your energy readings were right on the money," Whitfield said slowly. It was, Maggie figured, the closest she'd get to an apology.

She gave him a twisted smile. "Thank you. You know, for not letting me fall into the valley."

He grinned back at her.

***

Jeff woke in a sinfully comfortable bed with a naked Jensen snuggled up on one side. He could never mistake Jensen's muscled, masculine form for Katie. Jeff still marveled at how the very tall Jensen could make himself seem smaller than he actually was, tucking himself under Jeff's arm like this.

"Mmm, good morning," Jeff murmured, still drowsy. If they weren't technically in enemy territory and most likely under surveillance at exactly this moment, Jeff could get used to this..

"I have breakfast on the table in the sitting room," Jensen whispered. "I also showered and prepped myself. Which do you want first? Food or me?"

Jeff couldn't help the growl that rose in his throat. As if he'd choose food over the opportunity to have Jensen naked and squirming. Hmm, unless he combined the two, Jeff made a mental note to try that later. It probably wasn't anything these people hadn't seen before.

He tumbled Jensen over, grabbing his wrists and holding his hands over his head. Jensen gave him a smirk and cocked one eyebrow. "Keep 'em there," Jeff said.

To his surprise, the headboard morphed and two strips surrounded Jensen's wrists, binding him to the bed. Jensen looked up. "Well, that's handy."

"As long as it lets you go when I'm done."

"It's probably dependent on thought commands, like the doors and the lifts," Jensen mused.

Jeff grabbed his chin and forced Jensen to look at him. "Sex now. Thinking later."

"Yes, sir," Jensen said, opening his thighs for Jeff to slide between them.

He took a moment to appreciate Jensen's nude form, his pale skin dusted with freckles, those pink nipples, and the piercing in his navel. The tiny ring looked innocuous, but Jeff knew it would serve as a locator, if something should happen to Jensen. No matter the practical use of it, Jeff couldn't resist it, how it looked on Jensen's flat belly. He kissed his way down Jensen's chest, stopping to lave his tongue around the bright ring.

Of course, Jensen tempted Jeff all on his own, without needing the magic of that navel ring, no matter how much Jeff liked to play with it. Well, he really liked how Jensen moaned and squirmed while he did it, how his dick filled all flushed and pink. It would be all too easy to forget this was just a role, that Jeff didn't really own Jensen, couldn't always bind him to his bed for easy access.

"You can just slide right in," Jensen offered with a little wiggle of his hips.

Jeff laughed. "Slut," he said, pushing Jensen's thighs back, holding on just behind Jensen's knees. This would be a bit tricky, since Jensen couldn't reach out and grab his own legs while Jeff lined himself up. Hmm. If the headboard responded to thought. . .  "Bind his legs," he said.

Cuffs shimmered into being around the tops of Jensen's knees, attached to ropes strung from the headboard. Yes, Jeff thought, that was a very handy trick.

"Oh fuck," Jensen murmured, tilting his head back.

"Just lie back and take it," Jeff told him, reaching down to finger Jensen's opening. Slick and open, just as his little sub had promised. He didn't touch Jensen's cock, tempting as it was to run his thumb over the little pearl of precome leaking out of the tip. He lined himself up and pushed, groaning at how easy it was to just slide into Jensen like this.

Jeff gave in to the impulse to lean down and suckle at Jensen's neck, around the collar. He liked leaving bruises around the mark of his ownership, how the bruised skin looked in contrast to Jensen's normally pale tones. Jensen gasped and shuddered beneath him, unable to move very far at all due to his bonds.

"Mine," he hissed in Jensen's ear as he shifted upward, rolling his hips into Jensen, surrounded by nothing but tight heat.

"Yours," Jensen whispered, his eyes shining as they stared up at Jeff.

Jensen might change his mind about that in a moment, Jeff thought, once he realized what Jeff was about to do. He'd picked up a few things since Jensen had introduced him to this kind of sex.

Jeff drew back, bracing his hands on Jensen's hips as he pounded into the body beneath him, every gasp and whimper Jensen let out just inciting him even further. Jensen tried to push his hips up, to give as good as he got, but the ropes hampered him to his frustration, especially since Jeff was keeping as far from Jensen's cock as possible.

"Please," Jensen gasped, "Let me come, please, sir."

Jeff closed his eyes as he pummeled Jensen's ass, moving faster and faster until he stilled, coming in tight pulses into the heat. He looked down at Jensen and curved his lips into a smile. "No," he said.

Jensen blinked up at him and pulled on the restraints. "No?"

Jeff lowered himself, careful to keep his belly out of contact with Jensen's dick. "Maybe if you're good all day today, I'll let you come when I get back."

Now if this place continued to work as it had, Jeff thought, reaching out with one hand, he'd find exactly what he needed within reach, despite his lack of forethought. When his fingers closed around the rubber plug, he grinned. He didn't know what the expression on his face looked like, but it was enough to make Jensen glare wide-eyed at him.

"Just gonna make you wear this through breakfast," he promised, pulling out carefully and plugging Jensen before any of his come could escape.

Jensen moaned and wiggled his ass. Jeff thumbed the handle of the black plug, which caused Jensen to gasp and cry out. He must be so sensitive right now.   
    
"Please, sir, I don't know if I can." Jensen twitched in his bonds, his cock dark red and leaking against his thigh.   
    
Jeff took pity on him and reached out and wrenched his heavy balls, getting an entirely different squawk from Jensen as his erection flagged only slightly. "C'mon," Jeff murmured, running his hands up Jensen's thighs to where the bonds sat. At his touch the rope released and he guided the legs back to the bed carefully, not letting them just drop. Another touch against Jensen's wrists had the restraints fading away.

"You've certainly picked up the technology," Jensen said, sulking, of course.

"I have an incentive." Jeff gave in and leant in for a kiss, sucking on Jensen's plump lower lip. He loved those pouty lips, how they swelled nice and red when Jeff kissed and bit at them. "And now we'll have food." He pulled himself away and slipped into the leggings he had discarded last night.

Jensen just grumbled under his breath, but he followed Jeff into the sitting room, moving slow and careful. For a moment Jeff worried it would be too much, and his gaze flickered to Jensen's fingers. Jensen just gave him another 'I'm fine' signal and Jeff had to trust him to admit when it was too much.

"Sit in the chair," he ordered, knowing that would be more difficult than if Jensen had to kneel at his side. Even so, Jeff really didn't want to feed Jensen again. That entire scene had been . . . difficult to deal with, especially in front of the others.

The table had been set, a silver cover over the plates keeping the meal warm. Jensen gestured to the pitcher. "It's not coffee, but it's hot."

"Did you go down to the kitchen for all this?" Jeff asked, opening his plate to reveal a hearty breakfast of toast, some kind of pastry cake and what looked like scrambled eggs.

"It was in that box thing over there when I woke up." Jensen pointed.

The 'box thing' looked like a shelf set into the wall with a rectangular section cut out above it. Jeff gave Jensen a look and he replied, "I'll find out more about it today."

"Good," Jeff said. He didn't have to say any more. The more information they learned about 328, the better.

Which was why Jensen's meeting with the queen last night had been so important. Although it had answered some questions - blue eyes denoted subs? Really? - it had raised so many others when Jensen had debriefed him last night. Jeff had no idea how to parse family dynamic, or how the queen dealt with over two hundred subs of her own.

"When you go on your outing with the princess today," Jensen began, staring at his food. "Do I have your permission to continue touring with Sub Misha?"

Jeff wondered why Jensen wasn't eating and then with a start realized he hadn't yet received permission. "Yes," he said, "And eat up, you'll need your strength to keep up with him."

Jensen laughed. "I don't know, I think he's pretty worn out after last night."

If Jeff hadn't just come, his dick would have done more than just twitch helplessly at that thought. The duchess hadn't been wrong in her assessment; Jeff maybe had a slight hankering for the blue-eyed slut. There had been something to it, the way Misha had begged for everything done to him, how nothing had been too much, he just seemed to take more and more, and then even more.

Jeff didn't know where this desire had come from. He had never been the type to go from lover to lover. And even though Jensen wasn't really his lover, and this entire charade was just for the mission, Jeff still thought that fucking another sub would be cheating, somehow. Even though, clearly, that wasn't the case in Harmony.

Maybe Jeff saw something in Misha that called to whatever this was in him that Jensen had pulled out and woven into this dominant personality. He wanted to be the one putting the boy in his place, fucking him with his thick cock and then whatever else Jeff had to hand, plug, dildo, his fist, until he was hard enough again to plow into the sub.

"Sir?" Jensen asked.

Jeff looked up, realizing he had zoned off for a moment there. Maybe it wasn't Misha that he wanted to do those things to.

"Hmm?"

Then Jeff heard it, the knock that heralded a visitor. He'd really have to introduce these people to door chimes. Jeff walked to the wall and touched it, marveling at how it swirled open, revealing the princess on the other side.  Unlike the majestic gowns of last night, she wore a simple tunic and trousers, her long blond hair braided into two tails on either shoulder.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Commander, I wanted to get an early start and I didn't know if you knew how to use the tele," Alona said.

Jeff figured that must be their version of a comm. "I hope you can explain it to me later," he said. He felt awkward, unshowered and barely dressed. This wasn't the impression he wanted to make. "I'm sorry, we've just woken. If you'll give me a few minutes to get ready?"

"That's fine," she said, strolling into the room. Well, Jeff thought, she did kind of own the place. "I'll just wait on your balcony.  It'll take some time to summon a tram anyway. There should be plenty of traffic today."

"We have a balcony?" Jeff asked, stunned as she moved to the opposite wall and the large glass windows. Jensen, he saw, had slid to his knees, hands on his thighs, unconscious of his nudity.

When Alona reached the window, she placed a hand on the glass and it rippled away, revealing a balcony without a rail that looked over the city. "Now you do," she said simply. "All the rooms are on the outside of the tower for this very reason."

"Handy," Jeff murmured.

She tossed back a grin. "And good morning to you too, Sub Jensen. I'll just wait outside for you. Come out when you're ready." Alona disappeared onto the balcony, the windows closing behind her.

Jeff turned to Jensen. "Up," he commanded. "Bend over the back of the chair."

Jensen groaned, but obeyed, spreading his legs at the touch of Jeff's hand on his thighs. Stars, Jeff could play with this ass all day, running his hands over the soft skin of his buttocks, squeezing the fleshy globes until Jensen begged to be fucked. He made a mental note to try it before grabbing the plug. "Ease up on it, let me have it," Jeff said, pulling the plug out, being extra sure to nudge against Jensen's sweet spot before taking it out completely.

He dropped the plug on the seat of the chair, just within Jensen's sight. "Maybe I'll leave you plugged all day, wearing nothing but a ring. You'll be begging for me to let you come."

"Please," Jensen said, his voice hoarse, thick dick pressed against the back of the chair.

"When I get back," Jeff promised, giving in and running a hand over one sweet cheek. "While I'm gone be sure to take care of that," he meant the plug, "And it would do you good to clean up in here. Change the sheets, make sure the equipment is nice and shiny. One more thing, don't even think about coming before I get back. No fooling around with Misha, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jensen said, muffled against the back of the chair.

"Good boy, now stay like this till I'm done with my shower. Might find this old man has another fuck in him yet."

He grinned at Jensen's whimpering moan.

***

Misha showed up about an hour after Jeff had left and Jensen breathed a sigh of relief at his arrival. He hadn't known what to do with the dirty breakfast dishes, or where the spare linens for the bed were kept. Luckily, Jensen had plenty of experience cleaning and storing sex toys, so polishing the plug had been the least of his problems.

He wondered if he had done too good of a job preparing Jeff for this role. Jensen was glad Jeff had stepped up to the plate and taken command, but for some reason, it unsettled him. It seemed too real, sometimes, as if Jeff really were his master. Of course, Jensen had never really had a master, not like the people on 328 defined it. The closest he had come was General Ferris who had been his mentor back at the Academy and had trained him personally.

But here, in Harmony, the whole concept of dom and sub was played out in a way Jensen had never seen. Sure, he'd known people who played at 24/7, but one party was always free to walk away from the scene. No actual planetary law bound that kind of relationship, nothing made a person a sub and subjected him to another's will.

Jensen wondered what it must be like, to know from childhood that you were destined to be owned and taken care of. Was it comforting or frightening? He tried to imagine it, when he was a teen and responsible for his brother after their parents' death, to not have that crushing weight on him, to give the burden to his master. Jensen just couldn't see it.

"Come in," Jensen told Misha, after his knock on the wall. Jensen had pulled on a pair of leggings after Jeff left, since he hadn't been given any other special instructions except to clean. His lips curled at that thought, how very military of Jeff. Perhaps he'd be subject to an inspection when Jeff got back. "Do you know where the extra linens are?"

Misha shook his head. "You know the Queen has subs who will take care of that? It's their whole purpose."

"My master gave me the task before he left," Jensen told him.

"Mmm, they should be in the drawers next to the bed."

Jensen guessed Misha never had to change a set of sheets. He probably spent most of his time on the bed instead of changing it. Well, if his mistress had more than one sub herself, Misha could afford to specialize.

Between the two of them, Jensen completed all of his tasks. He placed the dishes back on that strange inset shelf, the Dumb Waiter Misha called it, and marveled as they disappeared.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Jensen asked, turning to Misha. "Tours of parts of the palace I haven't seen?"

"Are you sure you don't wish to visit the public baths again?" Misha grinned, showing a set of fine white teeth.

Jensen shook his head. "Not without my master." The thought of what Jeff had done to him in the baths only yesterday caused him to blush and shift his stance. Damn the man for leaving Jensen unsatisfied that morning.

"Ah." Misha gave him a shrewd look. "Do you think your master will let us play together? I think he's the type who'd like to watch."

Jensen snorted. "He specifically ordered me not to fool around with you while he wasn't here."

"Smart of him," Misha said. "Would you like to see some of the gardens? It's a lovely day, we could have a picnic and you could ask me about what perplexes you."

Too many things perplexed him, Jensen thought darkly. "Sure," he agreed and followed Misha out. He wondered if Misha ever wore anything but that leather kilt. Well, if he were Misha's master, he wouldn't want to cover that body up either. And as a red-collar, Jensen wondered if there was some clause where Misha had to be available for easy-access.

He had to hide his smile at that thought as they entered the lift. Jensen wondered if he'd finally met his match, someone who'd had far more partners than Jensen himself. His friends at the Academy had acknowledged Jensen as the sluttiest of the group, after all.

What was it about this place that reminded him of what it felt like to be young, and at the Academy, just learning about his submissiveness and not yet having to use it as a weapon?

The gardens spread across the rooftops of part of the palace, sprawling like hills around the building, facing the ocean that rivaled the sky in its blue hue. Jensen found himself captured by that horizon at first, not even seeing the beauty of the gardens themselves. The plants were carefully cultivated and ordered as if by the best landscaper, small trees cut into strict shapes, circled by flowers and stone walkways.

Misha led him to a small fountain and sat at the edge, trailing a hand through the trickling water. Jensen joined him, regarding the sculpture at the center of the stone circle, of a woman with a sub at her feet. Perhaps this represented the queen and her sub?

"I was wondering," Jensen ventured, still phrasing the question as he spoke. "About the queen's children?"

Misha's gaze shot up, his blue eyes hard as he stared at Jensen. "How did you know there were any other children but the princess?"

Right, Jensen wasn't supposed to have heard that conversation between the princess and her brother. Instead, he lied. "When I had my audience with the queen, there was a child, a baby, really. She wanted the queen to kiss her good night."

"Oh, no, that's not the queen's child." Misha shook his head. "The babe is probably the child of two of her subs."

"Such a thing is allowed?"

"If the dom gives permission, of course. You can't have a child without the blessing of Harmony, anyway. And the child of two subs is always a sub, and much honored."

No children without the blessings of Harmony, whatever that meant. Jensen supposed that accounted for the lack of any apparent birth control mentioned when Misha's mistress had taken him. "Are the subs allowed to marry?" He followed the thought to his next conclusion, wondering about tiny family groups in the queen's holdings.

"I don't know what that means." Misha tilted his head. "Marry?"

Jensen gestured with his hands. "When two people want to form a romantic relationship that is acknowledged by the law. Um. It doesn't necessarily have to be a dominant and a submissive."

Misha shook his head violently. "Such a thing doesn't exist here. Can you imagine? Two doms together? Who'd be in charge?"

"You don't ever want to be with someone who's your equal?"

Misha gave him a look. "I fuck other subs all the time."

"Not like that. I mean, a partner."

"I have my mistress," Misha answered, but he looked confused at Jensen's line of questioning.

Jensen wasn't even sure why he kept pursuing this, it wasn't as if he was dead set on marrying someone and needed Misha to understand. He thought of Jared and the ring he'd shown Jensen before asking his college sweetheart to marry him. Jensen had never seen that kind of happy ending for himself, but he had never seen this kind of relationship as a viable one either.

Before he could speak or ask another question, the sound of footsteps on the stone path had them both looking up as Duke Adrian emerged from behind a row of bushes, his sub trailing behind him with a leash attached to his nipple rings. 

Misha stood and bowed, keeping his head lowered and his hands behind his back. Jensen mirrored the posture. Neither of them spoke, and Jensen figured that to be protocol, not to speak to a dom until spoken to.

Adrian looked at them through narrowed eyes and if his glance strayed a bit too long on Jensen, well, Jensen was used to that. Although the duke's gaze didn't reach Jensen's eyes, the object of fascination for most of the other doms on 328, no, he never looked higher than Jensen's half-bare chest. These tunics didn't cover much.

"Where are your doms, boys?" Adrian snapped out.

Jensen let Misha take this one. "My mistress is attending to the queen's business in preparations for the Choosing. I have been instructed to teach Sub Jensen more about our city."

"I see." Adrian turned to his sub. "Perhaps my sub could give his perspective. I don't see why you shouldn't have a representative from my district."

"I'm sure that was not my lady queen's intent in giving me this assignment," Misha said, a bit braver than Jensen would have been in the face of the scowl Adrian directed at him.

"Whatever the intent," Adrian snapped. "Peter will attend you for the afternoon. I'm sure Sub Jensen," he tilted his head at Jensen, his lips curving in a scary looking smile, "would be interested in learning as much as he can from as many different sources as possible."

Jensen said only: "Yes, sir," not knowing quite how to address the intimidating man.

"Return to our quarters before dinner," Adrian snapped at his sub before removing the leash and turning back the way he had come.

Misha waited a heartbeat, then went and peeked behind the row of bushes, presumably making sure the duke had gone. He then whirled on Peter. "What game is he playing, Levi?"

Peter, who had been standing still and silent, his gaze firmly on the ground, lifted his head at that. "My name is Peter."

Jensen watched the byplay between the two men, how Peter's blue eyes flared in a way he hadn't seen before.

"Right," Misha snapped. "So, Peter, tell me what has he been doing?"

"You know as much as I do," Peter answered, looking away and directly at Jensen. "He's curious, like everyone else, about our guests from the stars."

Misha reached out and grabbed Peter by the arm. The other sub hissed and pulled away. "You don't have to lie to me, L…Peter. We're friends, aren't we?"

"I'm not allowed to have friends," Peter said, his voice flat. "I have my master. That's enough."

Jensen saw how Misha struggled to gain control of himself, how he swallowed compulsively and flexed his hands into fists. "Why you went under contract with him. . ."

"Leave it, Misha." Peter jerked his head in Jensen's direction.

"I don't know if I'll get a chance to speak to you again!" Misha snapped. "I see you once a year and every year you're different."

"What did you expect?" Peter's shoulders sagged. He seemed relieved to let go of the very strict posture he had been holding. "I'm not who I was any longer."

"Who were you?" Jensen asked.

Peter looked at him, almost grateful for the interruption. "First born son of the queen. Indulged, spoiled prince."

Misha sputtered. "You were never spoiled."

"It doesn't matter. It's my master's will I have to obey now. You know, Misha. Tell me it's not different to be with Mistress Claudia."

Misha's gaze softened and he reached out again, this time laying a finger on the black collar around Peter's neck. "I didn't sign up for twenty years for my first master."

Jensen's mouth opened. "Is that what the black collar means? A twenty year contract."

Peter gave him a small smile. "Yes. Isn't that why you wear black?"

"Oh, no." Jensen fingered his own collar, wincing slightly as he came up on the love bite Jeff had left him from this morning.

"His is different," Misha said. "It has a clasp, like any normal buckle."

For the first time Jensen realized that neither of their collars had end pieces. Each was as if a solid piece of leather had grown about the sub's neck. He wondered how the hell the collars were put on or taken off, perhaps more of this strange technology?

"What do the other colors mean?" Jensen asked, hoping to distract them from the differences in his collar.

Misha grinned. "Finally, you start asking useful questions!" He moved back to the fountain and sat down, so Jensen figured this to be a long conversation.

"Sit with us," Misha invited Peter, his voice soft.

"I'd rather stand," Peter said, looking away.

Misha's eyes narrowed and in a move faster than Jensen could blink, grabbed Peter and had him splayed over his lap, throwing up the end of Peter's kilt. "Damn it, Misha! That's not your business!"

Jensen could see the black plug in Peter's ass, much like the one Jeff had placed in his own that morning. He realized why Peter hadn't wanted to sit. When Misha shifted, he gasped at the cage surrounding Peter's cock, keeping it soft and confined. His hairless balls hung heavy and full beneath the imprisoned dick. Misha touched the metal rings and Peter squirmed and pulled away, a flush rising in his pale skin.

"How long has this been on?" Misha asked. He kept his voice low, the way you might talk to a spooked animal.

"Long enough," Peter whispered.

"Too long," Misha sighed.

Jensen wondered what exactly he had stumbled onto here.

***

For the first time Jeff rode one of the trams with other citizens of Harmony, sitting on the plush seats just like any other sort of public transportation. Those with subs had them kneeling in the center, like Jensen had, and that explained the width of the compartment. Alona smiled at everyone before wishing them all good morning, infecting them all with her good cheer and excitement.

Even after her explanation last night – of going to look at subs on the market – Jeff wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him as they stepped off the tram in the district's main square. Nude subs in purple collars lined up around the giant fountain in the center and all down the sidewalks, for as far as the eye could see. It reminded Jeff of the time he and Katie had stumbled onto a nude beach during their honeymoon on Graece.

He shook off his shock and followed Alona as she perused the subs around the fountain. "The best thing about the Choosing," she said in a low voice, "is that subs from all districts are on display."

"Is there a difference?" Jeff asked. "Other than just more of a selection?"

"Oh yes," she said. "Subs from the Luttrell district, for example, specialize in service. Oh and they have lovely tattoos." Alona pointed to a young woman with a spectacular work of art on her back, roses and vines entwined in an intricate design as brightly colored as anything in this city. "And if you want a good red band it's best to look to Duchess Claudia's district. Duke Leonard's for green-bands, oh and for extremely flexible subs."

"And Duke Adrian?" he asked, barely recalling the name of the man she had left out.

Alona stopped in her tracks and frowned. "Masochists," she said.

Before Jeff could respond to that, Alona strode forwards towards a sub standing on the edge of the fountain. He towered over the princess by a good foot, had bright blue eyes that seemed impossible with his cocoa colored skin. "Good morning," she said to him.

The sub shifted from his stance, letting his arms fall from their position on the back of his neck to regard her. "Good morning, mistress," he said, his voice a deep rumble.

"Where were you trained?"

"At the Schola in Luttrell," he answered, eyes flickering up to gaze at Jeff for a moment, before looking back down at Alona.

"How long have you been on the market?"

"Two months," he said. "I had been with my last mistress for three years."

Alona nodded very seriously. "And how many masters had you had before that?"

"Four," he told her.

Jeff wondered how common that was, to have had so many owners. But this sub looked nearly twenty years older than the princess, so he had have gone around the block a bit. Jeff realized the other man was around his age and bit his cheek at that realization. They weren't that different, he and this sub, being older and lacking a partner. Only Jeff couldn't stand on a street corner and advertise himself, well, not without getting arrested in most corners of the UP, anyway.

"Thank you," she told him. "May I leave you my mark?"

"I would be honored, mistress."

Alona took something slim and glowing out of her front pocket and handed it to the sub. Jeff wondered where the naked man was going to put the darn thing, but his curiosity went unsatisfied, because the sub just held it in his hand.

She turned to go, but stopped when the sub asked her name. Alona colored, her pale skin blushing bright read to the roots of her blond hair. "Alona," she said. "And yours?"

"Dourdan," he answered.

"Thank you."

As they walked away, Alona explained. "They have three days to display themselves and collect dom marks. At the end they choose the ones they will allow to court them."

"So giving a mark," Jeff rolled the term around in his mind. "Doesn't guarantee that you'll be allowed to court them?"

"And you don't have to court a sub just because they chose your mark." Alona continued to stroll along the throngs of people, although no other sub caught her attention just yet.

"I notice you didn't give your title," Jeff said softly.

She bit her lip. "It's easier to gauge their true reactions if they don't know I'm the princess. It would be quite an upward move in status for a sub. I don't want to Choose someone who only wants to join with me because of my title."

"No," Jeff agreed.

"It would be silly to Choose that way. We might be terribly incompatible. Not suited for each other at all. And then locked into a contract. . ." her voice trailed off.

She dropped the subject and Jeff didn't ask again. They continued to move through the crowd and Alona gave away two more of her marks. From everyone else Jeff observed, she seemed to be sparser with them. This would be her first sub, he remembered. It struck him the honor she was giving him, to allow him to accompany her into the city for this.

"Do you see anyone you like?" she asked.

Jeff started out of his thoughts. "I have Jensen," he stammered. "And of course, I can't take anyone with me when I leave."

"Of course, but that wouldn't stop you from signing a contract for a night."

Jeff boggled at that thought as Alona pushed them towards a cart of food, where a black-collar sub stood. She ordered two warm pastries and handed one to Jeff. He didn't see her pay for them, and vaguely remembered their tailor saying something about accounts being set up. Jeff would have to ask later. Right now he had more pressing concerns.

"Princess," he said in a low tone. "I would like to meet with your mother to discuss my people, the ones taken."

Alona chewed carefully before answering. "Didn't Sub Jensen give you her answer?"

Jeff blew out a frustrated breath. "I understand I haven't proved myself yet, but I would like to speak with them, let them know I haven't forgotten them. And, there is another matter I need to discuss with her." The captain's words to him, the orders to campaign for a UP base on 328 still haunted him. Jeff hadn't had the chance to tell Jensen about them and now he couldn't for fear of being overheard by the queen before he could present her with the idea.

"My mother doesn't trust you, Commander," Alona said. "You'll have to earn that trust."

"I understand," Jeff said, another argument ready on his tongue.

"But I'll speak with her. I think you should be able to meet with your taken subs."

Jeff winced at her use of the term. He could only imagine what Tappen and Johnson had gone through during the past seven days they had been trapped on 328 and undergoing 'training'. "Thank you, princess."

"Please, it's just Alona."

Jeff wasn't sure how that would go over in front of the queen, but he would not deny the gift. "Jeff," he told her.

She beamed up at him and continued to drag him around the square for the rest of the afternoon.


	5. Chapter 5

Jeff managed to keep his promise to Jensen, arriving back at the palace with just enough time before dinner to bend the young man over the same chair in their sitting room and fuck him till Jensen came in thick spurts all over the rich fabric.   
    
"Good boy," Jeff murmured in Jensen's ear, thrilled to feel him shudder beneath him. "If we shower together, that'll save some time."   
    
Jensen turned his head and raised an eyebrow. "And conserve water."   
    
"Mmm. I do want to try out that tub sometime before we leave." Jeff thought of how the hot jets would feel against his sore back, especially as he fucked Jensen in the water. He loved how Jensen looked with droplets of liquid beading on his body.   
    
It wasn't till they were in the shower that Jensen brought up how he had spent his day. "I learned a lot about how things work here. Misha is a good teacher."   
    
Jeff paused in his soaping of Jensen's back. "Perhaps you should give the report to the captain tonight."   
    
Jensen shrugged. "I'm sure you learned plenty yourself." He leaned back, his ass brushing against Jeff's dick. "There's one thing though?"   
    
"Oh?" Jeff replied, taking the hint and running his hands over Jensen's chest and belly, tracing the navel piercing with one finger.   
    
"Can't think when you do that," Jensen gasped. "Duke Adrian's sub, he's the queen's son. And I don't think he's happy at all."   
    
Hmmm, that was something to watch out for. Jeff knew there had to be layers of politics in this city, every bureaucracy had hoops to jump through, people to bribe. He and Jensen had to be especially careful, ignorant of exactly how the balance of power fell in Harmony.   
    
Dinner that night had gone exactly as the night before, with Jensen joining the other subs in serving the doms. However, when it came time for dessert and the floorshow, apparently it was Duke Adrian's turn to entertain the masses. Given what Jeff had learned from Jensen only moments before dinner, he was especially wary when Adrian took the center of the circle.   
    
"All of our subs," Adrian began, making eye contact with the crowd as he spoke, every ounce the consummate public speaker. "have their special skills and abilities. We saw a lovely demonstration of that last night, thank you, Duchess Claudia."   
    
Jeff noticed that Adrian didn't thank Misha and really, that wasn't fair, since the sub had done all of the work. He extended his leg a bit for Jensen to lean against, comforted by the simple touch, knowing Jensen was so close, just at his feet.   
    
"I thought it a special treat for our guest," Adrian tilted his head in Jeff's direction, "to see what the subs of Pasdar district are capable of."   
    
With those words, Jeff remembered what Alona had told him earlier. The subs of Adrian's district were masochists. A sick feeling started up in the bottom of Jeff's stomach.   
    
"I give you Mistress Albaney." Adrian gestured with a flourish to one end of the great hall, where a woman decked out from head to toe in black leather stood, the handle of a long tailed whip in one hand. "Known throughout the Royal district for her hand with a whip."   
    
Albaney strode into the circle, giving a haughty nod to all of them. She stood with a military straight stance on impossibly high heels, her dark hair braided into a severe bun. If he had to base her character on her looks alone, Jeff would almost be frightened of her.   
    
"And I give you my sub, Peter," Adrian held out a hand towards his seat, where Peter had knelt. At his words, Peter unbuckled his kilt and crawled across the floor till he reached his master's feet. He kissed the tips of Adrian's fingers before the duke stroked his hair. "Throughout Albaney's entire demonstration tonight, Peter will not make a sound. Except for breathing, of course."   
    
Even Jeff realized something about that didn't sit right with the rest of the doms. There was something arrogant in Adrian doing this, giving his sub over to someone else for this display. And Jeff couldn't protest, he had no power here, although he flickered his gaze over to the queen, to see what she thought about all this.  Her face was closed and carefully blank, lips set in a thin straight line.   
    
"You may begin, Mistress." Adrian stepped back a few steps.   
    
Albaney held out one hand and something shimmered into existence behind her, Jeff recognized the object from his own quarters, two large planks of wood set into a giant X. She held out the handle of the whip to Peter and after he kissed it, ordered him to stand and take his place. When Peter reached the giant X and stood flush against it, bands appeared around his wrists and ankles, anchoring him in place.   
    
Jeff couldn't see the sub's face from where he sat, though he had a perfect view of that smooth pale back and rounded buttocks. He wished could see Peter's face so he'd feel better about this whole thing, know that this was something the sub wanted.   
    
"I will count the strokes," Albaney stated to the group, drew her arm back and let the whip fly. "One."   
    
Jeff hadn't expected there to be blood. Nothing he had seen on 328 had prepared him for this, the bloody mess of Peter's back with each stroke of that woman's arm. Back on the ship, when they were training, Jensen had told Jeff he didn't much care for blood play. "I'll probably pass out," Jensen had said.   
    
Now, he felt Jensen tremble, though to the outsiders, he held his posture, still and serene. Jeff reached out and tugged Jensen up, so his head rested in Jeff's lap and faced away from the mass of crimson dripping down Peter's back.   
    
Most disturbing was the silence, how Peter made no sound but ragged gasps, his breath coming harder and heavier the longer this went on. Jeff didn't think he could withstand it himself, no way would he be able to keep quiet under that.   
    
Adrian had kept his gaze on his sub the entire time, except for when Jeff pulled Jensen's head into his lap. Then the duke looked their way and Jeff swore the man had licked his lips. Of course, Adrian might just be enjoying what Albaney was doing to Peter; Jeff could see the tent in the Duke's leggings.   
    
"Twenty," Albaney called out, and then dropped her arm, finally counting out the last stroke. She moved to release Peter from his bonds, keeping a strong hand on his arm as he fell to his knees. After a few moments of heavy breathing, with silence still ruling the great hall, Peter seemed to compose himself and crawled to his master's feet.   
    
Now Jeff could see the tear tracks running down the boy's face.   
    
And when Adrian pulled Peter's face to his crotch, Jeff nearly interrupted everything right then. What kind of fucking gall did this bastard have to do that to his sub and then expect a blowjob in return? Jensen must have felt the tension in Jeff's muscles, and he signaled him quickly, 'do nothing.' Was this kind of thing normal?   
    
After Peter had finished, marked with his master's come on his chin and chest, and blood on his back, the crowd applauded, as they had done for the conclusion of Misha's scene last night. Jeff hoped he wasn't imagining that tonight the applause wasn't quite so vigorous.   
    
"As you can see, the subs of my district are specially trained," Adrian said, directing his comments in Jeff's direction.   
    
That's not all I see, Jeff thought. He didn't speak, he didn't trust himself not to speak his mind.   
    
"Duke Adrian," Claudia spoke up after Misha had whispered in her ear. "I'd like to offer Misha to escort Sub Peter to the healer."   
    
Adrian's expression darkened at her words, but he only inclined his head. "Of course, Duchess."   
    
Jensen tugged on Jeff's clothing, and he spoke up. "Would it be all right if Jensen assisted Misha?" he directed his question to Claudia, not Adrian. "It looks like a two-man job." Jeff doubted Peter would be doing any walking for a while, stars, he could barely stay on his knees, his body swayed and his arms trembled to hold him up.   
    
"Excellent suggestion, Commander," Claudia said and so it was done.   
    
***   
    
Jensen marveled that Peter managed to stay upright until he and Misha succeeded in getting the sub out of sight. Once they reached the lift, Peter collapsed and began to shake violently.   
    
"It's all right, Levi," Misha murmured, stroking Peter's hair gently as the elevator moved. "You'll be all fixed up soon. The healer will take good care of you."   
    
"Is this normal?" Jensen asked, not wanting to sound as appalled as he felt.   
    
Misha turned a sneer in his direction. "No master would have someone else whip his sub in front of a crowd for entertainment! Not even for punishment! And then to not even call for the healer, to leave it to my mistress!"   
    
So Adrian had acted in as bad form as Jensen had intuited. Good to know. He knelt next to Misha, noting how Peter felt warm and fevered to his touch. "You had her call for the healer," he said.   
    
"Someone had to," Misha said. "A sub can die from a bad whipping."   
    
"Albaney knows her trade," Peter choked out. "She would have called for it, had your mistress not."   
    
"Hush," Misha said, just as the doors to the elevator opened.   
    
Peter had to lean heavily on both of them in order to make it out of the elevator and Jensen wondered why there wasn't an easier way, to just magic up a stretcher like everything else in this place. Although, seeing the panicked expression on Misha's face, Jensen figured the other sub hadn't even thought of it.   
    
"What in Harmony's name is this?" someone exclaimed. "Why didn't you contact us on the tele?"   
    
Jensen turned to see a sub he didn't know coming towards them. The man wore a black collar and was clad entirely in white. "Set him down here. Mistress!" he turned and bellowed.   
    
"Micah, what are you. . ." A woman appeared in the doorway, dressed in white like the sub, and terribly lovely, just like everyone else here, with blond curls around her cheeks and large dark eyes. "Levi?" she gasped. Straightening her shoulders, she took command of herself. "Micah, Misha, and you," she turned on Jensen, "get him on the examination table. Quickly."   
    
They lay Peter face down on the low table Micah had motioned to earlier, stepping back as the woman approached. She pulled something from a drawer and held it against Peter's arm, Jensen guessed it was some kind of injection.   
    
Peter sighed in relief. "Thank you, Nicci," he slurred, before his eyes fluttered closed.   
    
She brushed his hair out of his eyes, her gaze going soft for a moment before she turned her gaze on Jensen and Misha, her eyes now hard. "What happened?"   
    
"His master had Albaney have a go at him," Misha said, not hiding the anger in his voice.   
    
"There should have been a healer on standby," she snapped. "What was he thinking? I had nearly gone for the night!"   
    
"I would have been here, mistress," Micah put in from attending Peter. "Sub Theo is still recovering from his broken ankle."   
    
Nicci waved a hand at him. "That's not the point. And who are you?"   
    
Jensen swallowed, startled at suddenly being regarded by this fierce woman. "Jensen," he said. "Oh, sub to Commander Morgan," he added as an afterthought. "We're from the stars."   
    
"The green-eyed sub," she murmured, and Jensen wondered how much of a reputation he had. "At least you're not one of Adrian's."   
    
"You'll keep him here, won't you, Healer Nicci? At least till tomorrow?" Misha turned his wide blue eyes on her.   
    
"He may have to stay a few days for observation," she growled. Nicci turned back to the row of instruments alongside the examination table. "I'll know once I run his vitals." She turned away from them, after getting what she needed to know from Misha, they were now beneath her notice.   
    
Misha tugged on Jensen's arm and pulled him away, towards a sink in the back where they washed the blood off of their hands. Jensen hadn't even noticed, in their haste to get Peter here. He'd told Jeff he had a problem with blood, and now he wrinkled his nose, the scent of it making him nauseous. The crisis had passed and now Jensen could freak out all he needed to.   
    
"Nicci will take care of him," Misha told Jensen as he led them back to the lift. "She's as good a healer as her mother, and her mother was the best."   
    
Jensen took another glance before the doors shut, saw how the woman held some kind of device over Peter's back - a skin sealer, perhaps? He'd like to get another look at the medical technology, see how much advanced they were compared to what the UP had. Only he hoped to visit under much better circumstances.   
    
As the doors opened once more, Jensen wondered if all the doms were to give demonstrations to their group each night. If so, it was only a matter of time before Jeff was expected to put Jensen on display. Jensen's stomach clenched and he wondered if they were ready.   
    
***   
    
Maggie hated wearing the air masks, how the edges of it caught around her ears and left indentations on her nose. However, they hadn't gotten the life support up and running on the ship yet, so the air was stale and not helped by just the one shuttle bay door they'd managed to figure out how to open. Devine had sent another shuttle down, filled with more scientists and equipment to analyze and package up this new find. And to Maggie's delight, her own part in the discovery hadn't been missed and she'd been able to poke around at the computer innards.   
    
"You haven't managed to get this bucket of bolts up and running yet?" Whitfield's muffled voice interrupted Maggie for a moment.   
    
She looked over at him from where she sat on the bridge, underneath the navigation station, the panel open and wires spilling out. "The problem I'm having is their computer talking to our computers." Maggie pointed to her tablet. "I'm going to have to rig up something to connect it to a port."   
    
"Piece of cake for you." Whitfield moved over to slide into the captain's seat.   
    
The ship was wonderfully outdated, filled of furniture and decor that hadn't been seen in hundreds of years. Maggie fingered the leather on the seat behind her, marveling that it hadn't rotted away, probably since the ship had been airtight. They needed to preserve this stuff, ASAP.   
    
"Just because I detected the energy reading doesn't mean I'm a miracle worker," Maggie told him.   
    
"If the power's out," he jerked his thumb to point behind him, where the other technicians were looking to hook a power source to the main reactor of the ship. "Then where's the reading coming from?"   
    
"Here." Maggie pointed to her screen. "The last remaining power was directed to the main computer, to keep the information viable, I guess for whoever found the ship."   
    
"Or just something they found pretty darn important before they cleared out that colony we found on the other side of the valley."   
    
Maggie's head snapped up. "What?"   
    
"Found the ruins of a settlement, full of stuff that was standard for back then. Pre-fab houses, old wheeled cars and all that shit."   
    
"If that's the original colony, then where did the city come from?" Maggie wondered out loud. While she spoke, her fingers wrapped the stripped wires together and shoved them into a standard tablet connector. Hopefully she'd managed to get all the correct leads.   
    
"Aliens, remember?" Whitfield snorted. He sat up straight as her display came to life.   
    
Maggie grinned, scrolling through her tablet, now finally able to access the ship's main computer and all of its records. "There is a shitload of stuff to go through here. Years and years of logs."   
    
"What's her name?" Whitfield jerked his head towards the roof, indicating the ship. They hadn't cleared enough of the hull to read the designation, if one even existed.   
    
She touched a button on her display. "The Raleigh," Maggie said. "They called her the Raleigh."


	6. Chapter 6

The knock came on their door early the next morning, reminding Jeff that he needed to get someone to teach him how to use this 'tele' thing Alona had mentioned. He smiled at the sight of Colin on the other side of the door, pleased to see the boy again. Jensen was safely dressed this morning; they anticipated interruptions now and honestly, after last night, neither one of them had quite been in the mood.

"Good morning, Colin," Jeff said. "I hope you're bringing us good news."

"I hope so, Commander," Colin beamed up at him. "The queen would like to see you and your sub for a private meeting."

Finally!

"Thank you Colin, that is good news." Jeff turned back to regard Jensen, who he caught in mid-yawn.

Jensen gave him a thin-lipped smile. "Sorry. I'll get it under control by the time we see the queen."

"Trouble sleeping?" Jeff asked.

"Weird dreams." Jensen shrugged. He tugged at his collar, something he did when nervous or disconcerted, Jeff had noticed.

"I'm not surprised," Jeff said under his breath. He could only imagine how Jensen must have felt after the scene last night. Jeff at least could count on the fact that he would never be expected to be on the other side of the whip. If he had his way, Jensen would never be on that X either. "Come on, let's get the ball rolling."

Colin had given them both a confused look, but led them to the lift in silence. Whatever concerned him, the boy didn't feel the need to bring it up.

"She's not going to let them go so easily," Jensen said softly.

"I'm not that naïve, L. . . Jensen," Jeff had to catch himself, stumbling over the word lieutenant. He shrugged at Jensen's raised eyebrow. Some habits were hard to break, especially since he'd only been calling the young man by his first name for two days.

Colin led them to the queen's sitting room and Jeff marveled at how accurate Jensen's description had been. The subs lounging around on loveseats and pillows had him disconcerted, as if they were the queen's harem on display for anyone to see. That's exactly what they were, Jeff realized.

Colin waved them in, and Jeff went from thoughts of orgies to sudden confrontation with the queen as he had never seen her before, draped in a simple robe, her blond hair loose around her shoulders and heavy rings under her eyes. She looked up from the side table, where she stood fixing her drink as they entered.

"Good morning, Commander."

Jeff tilted his head, aware of Jensen beside him, clasping his arms behind his neck and bowing his own head. Surprised he didn't kneel, Jeff said only, "Good morning."

"Please have a seat. Would you care for some tye?"

"No, thank you." He looked over at Jensen, to see if he wanted any, but Jensen just gave him a quick shake of his head.

He waited until she took her seat in the comfortable looking armchair before settling into the chair across from her, Jensen kneeling at his side. Between them stood a small table with a game board set up, the pieces scattered over the squares. The queen lifted one of the pieces, a lioness Jeff saw, and rolled it between her fingers absently.

"When my daughter said you wished to speak to me, I told her it was far too soon for you to have possibly proven yourself."

"I understand that," Jeff said, although he still wasn't quite clear on what the queen needed to see as proof. "But I wish to see the men you've taken. Let them know I've returned for them."

"They've been informed of your return," she said and Jeff wondered if there was any chance of him ever succeeding at this mission. "But I understand that you'd want to be assured of their welfare in my custody."

Jeff coughed, the one thing he really wanted to avoid was insult and he felt close to giving it again.

A small smile cracked her severe expression. "A good dom seeks to ensure his subs are well, even in the care of another."

"So I might've earned some brownie points with that?" At her bewildered expression, Jeff moved on. "I may see them then?"

The queen nodded. "I'll have Colin escort you to their location. I've had them moved to a suite in the palace once you returned."

So close, Jeff thought. If he was only concerned about getting his men back, Jeff might want to snatch them and make for the shuttle. But there were more important things at stake here, and establishing diplomatic relations with Harmony far more valuable right now. He sent a silent apology their way before thanking the queen.

"If that is all. . ."

"Actually." Jeff shifted in his chair, looking down at the game board as he gathered his words. Did that silver frog just wink at him? "There is more." He was aware of Jensen stiffening beside him, now Jeff seemed so attuned to his movements. "The people I serve, the UP council of senators, would like to establish diplomatic relations with you."

She arched an eyebrow. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"We would like to establish a base on this planet, a small colony outside the city. With your permission, scientists would study the environment and your technology."

"I see. And what would my people gain from such an arrangement?" Michelle leaned forward, putting the game piece back on the board. Jeff blinked as the lion leapt across the board before taking up a stance in the very center.

"I'm sure that can be negotiated," Jeff said. "There is much about where we come from that might yet appeal to you."

He saw the queen's eyes brighten with an internal fire. "I look forward to the negotiations. I'll have a contract specialist come from the Schola."

Jeff wondered what exactly he'd gotten himself into.

***

"You didn't mention that little bit about building a base on planet before," Jensen said in a low undertone as Colin led them down another set of lifts.

Jeff sighed, he could tell Jensen was more than a little miffed and rightly so, how could he be expected to do his job without all the available information. "It was a last minute addition. The captain told me about it just before we boarded the shuttle."

He hoped Jensen understood; he hadn't had time to let him in on the plan. Jeff sighed and stared at the lift doors impatiently. "Colin," he asked, not wanting the boy to recall this conversation, so he attempted a distraction. "do you go to school?"

Colin looked back at him, a confused look on his face before his expression smoothed. "Oh, I take lessons with the other children with the household tutor."

"How many children are there?" Jensen asked, and Jeff figured he might be just as curious to find this out.

"Not so many. Only ten now." Colin shrugged. "Two went off to the Schola this year."

Jeff remembered the boy saying he was destined for sub training in a few more years. He wondered if Colin got to come back here, or how he'd go about getting a master. Clearly some subs were unhappy in their chosen doms, if the queen's own son was any indication. But he didn't get to voice any of these concerns, the elevator doors finally opened and Colin led them to their destination.

Two guards stood in the hallway, neither of them men Jeff had met before. However, they just nodded at Jeff before one of them placed his palm on the wall behind him, causing a doorway to shimmer open.

"I'll wait here," Colin said.

Jensen ruffled his hair, and Jeff smiled at that, having had to restrain himself from the same action since they got off the lift. He strode past the guards and into a sitting room much like the one in his suite. Major Hank Tappen and Dr. Karl Johnson sat around the small dining table, mugs of steaming liquid in their hands.

Tappen stood and gave a quick salute. "Sir!" He had lost his uniform, dressed in clothes similar to Jensen's, the flowing leggings and tunic that bared most of his chest. The white collar around his neck drew Jeff's attention immediately.

Johnson at least still wore his black duty uniform, and the collar around his neck was gray. Jeff would have to ask him about that, it wasn't a color he had seen.

"Commander," Johnson greeted with a smile. "Took you long enough."

Jeff laughed, slapping the good doctor on the shoulder. "I'm glad to see you both."

"Who's the twink?" Tappen jutted his chin in Jensen's direction.

Jeff checked behind him to make sure the doorway had closed behind them. "This is Lieutenant Jensen Ackles. He's with the Sex Corps."

Tappen gave Jensen a narrowed eyed glare, strange, Jeff thought, to react that way to someone who had been sent to rescue him. "They sent a fucking Scut after us?"

Jensen gave Tappen a glare of his own, arms crossed over his chest as he spoke. "They sent someone who knew how to do his damn job."

"Yeah, pretty boy, I just bet this place is cake for you. Just spread your legs for anyone without a collar."

"If it's so easy, why aren't you doing my job? Oh, wait, you are, aren't you?" Jensen shot back.

Jeff had never heard that tone of voice from Jensen before, and he sure as hell had never heard that kind of Scut bullshit from Tappen either. "That's enough, both of you."

"Yes, sir," Tappen said, backing off for the moment.

"Yes, sir," Jensen echoed, moving away to stand with his back against the wall.

Friction between two of the people under his command was not something Jeff wanted to deal with right now. He turned his attention to Johnson, hoping he at least would have something useful to add to the conversation. "They treat you ok?"

Tappen snorted, but didn't speak. Johnson folded his hands on the table. "We're both fine now. . ."

Jeff stiffened. "What happened?"

Johnson sighed, not looking Jeff in the eye. "It was my fault. I tried to escape. They punished Hank for it."

"It wasn't your fault," Hank protested, a bit too heartily. He turned back to Jeff. "They think we're subs, they tried to train us."

Jeff winced.

"Actually," Johnson put it, "Once we resolved our misunderstanding, I learned quite a bit about this society. If I can share my notes with you." He moved across the room and picked up a slim object, about the size of a large book.

"What's that?" Jeff looked over.

Johnson's eyebrows went up. "You haven't seen their slates yet? They function like our tablets in a lot of ways, but don't ask me how it hooks up to anything." He touched the surface of it, and it rippled into a screen filled with writing. "They let me sit in on classes and speak with the children. You'll find you can learn quite a bit about a culture by what stories they tell their children."

"Can we save the happy anthropologist stuff for later?" Tappen rolled his shoulders, bouncing with barely restrained energy. "When the hell are we getting out of here?"

Jeff ran a hand through his hair. "Well, that's the problem. I still need to prove myself to the queen's satisfaction."

"And how are you supposed to do that?"

Jeff pointed in Jensen's direction. "By how I treat my sub."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Tappen groaned.

"Probably should have been nicer to me, Major." Jensen got a downright evil grin on his face.

"I'm also entering negotiations with the queen for building a UP base on planet," Jeff let out a breath. "So I don't know how long this is going to take. Are you all right here? Is there anything you want me to ask the queen for?" He looked around the room, evaluating the accommodations, but he could see no difference between this room and the one in their suite. Jeff wondered if they had a playroom too.

"I'm bored out of my freaking mind," Tappen sighed. "Can we roam the palace, at least? Staying in these rooms is annoying."

"I'd like to have access to their literature," Johnson said. "Maybe hold a few interviews with members of different strata in society."

"Hold off on the interviews." Jeff held up his hand. "But I'll ask about the literature. And maybe I can get you let out of here for part of the day. No guarantees."

Jeff noticed the glares Jensen and Tappen exchanged before they left the two men, but only rolled his eyes. Now was really not the time for either of them to be indulging in childish behavior. Not that he was in position to do anything to Tappen, but, and Jeff's eyes narrowed at the thought, maybe Jensen was angling for a spanking.

So he was smiling when Jensen turned back to talk to him. "I think it might be a good idea if I visit Peter in the infirmary. Or whatever they call it here."

Jeff nodded, the smile disappearing. "Do that. Come back to our suite when you're done."

The idea of Peter's injuries put a slight damper on Jeff's plans for the rest of the afternoon. They needed to get to the bottom of that mystery and soon.

***

As the doors to the lift closed, leaving Jensen alone, he dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands. He had forgotten what it had been like, being around soldiers like Tappen who didn't really understand what he did, and saw Scuts as just another target of derision. Jensen could damn well handle himself and he'd fallen into old habits, biting back just as hard as those who bit him.

And now he had to go back to being Jeff's sub, no, he thought, correcting himself, pretending to be Jeff's sub. Jensen had found himself caught up in the role, forgetting that this place, this almost magical city, was just another mission. Out there, planets still spun on the word of the UP or the Confed, and there was no such thing as a master/sub relationship codified by law.

Jensen took a deep breath, shaking off 'soldier Jensen,' the shell he'd put on in front of assholes like Major Tappen. He had to get back into the sub mindset, subsuming his will to his dom's; he had to trust Jeff. And despite everything, Jensen did trust Jeff. That might be part of the problem, he decided. They worked well together, as if they'd been partners for longer than a matter of days. If things were different. . .

But the mission came first, and Jensen never left a mission unfinished, no matter how difficult. He wasn't even a stranger to letting his heart take a beating for the sake of the UP. Jeff hadn't quite gotten that far under his skin, yet, but Jensen couldn't hold back. He had to give everything like a true sub would, as if this were real.

He centered himself, counting his heartbeats as Ferris had taught him all those years ago, one of her many tricks for Jensen to settle in his body, merging flesh and mind. Jensen could do this, focus on his task. Visit Peter in the infirmary, learn as much as he could about the medical technology. There, he had a goal.

Jensen reached out to touch the panel to activate the elevator, concentrating on the healer's location. When his skin made contact with the warm metal, Jensen felt something reaching back, like the feedback from a speaker gone bad. It reminded him of his dream last night, the lonely female voice calling his name again and again. He pulled back his palm, flexing his fingers. The lights along the door began to flicker, the only sign that the lift was moving.

He pulled himself to his feet just as the doors shimmered open. A sub sat in front of a long pale desk, and looked up when he approached. "Do you have a medical emergency, Sub?" she asked, looking up from the screen in the table.

"Oh, no. I was just hoping I could visit Sub Peter." Jensen folded his hands and smiled. He didn't remember much of this place from last night, they'd been too frantic, covered with blood and worried about Peter.

She touched a panel. "He's in room 47, but you'll have to be quick, his master is due to retrieve him this afternoon."

The last thing Jensen wanted was another run in with Duke Adrian. He hurried down the hallway happy that the rooms were numbered. Jensen stopped just short of room 47, the door was open and he heard the healer's voice drift out. She must be examining Peter before releasing him.

". . . time of dissolution, Peter. You have a chance to end this."

"I can't, Nicci."

"Why, Peter? She's your mother, surely she'll find cause…"

"I said no. That should be enough."

"I don't understand you, Peter. This is why we have the dissolution."

"Nicci."

"All right. I won't ask again."

Jensen stepped back a few steps and cleared his throat loudly before knocking on the doorway. Peter lay on a bed, much like any hospital bed Jensen had seen, with monitors and panels all around him. "Good morning," he said. "I came by to visit Sub Peter. See how you were feeling."

Nicci looked over to a blinking light on the wall, "I see." She tapped it, and Jensen realized it must have been notifying her that a visitor was on the way. "Don't overdo it, Peter. If I had my way I'd keep you here another night." The healer glided past Jensen, not even looking his way before exiting the room. Jensen frowned.

"Thank you for visiting, Sub Jensen," Peter said, sitting up with exaggerated care.

Now that he was here, Jensen didn't quite know what to say, it wasn't like he brought flowers or balloons. He'd spent far too much time in hospitals, from back when Jared was a teen and undergoing his gene therapy, and from his own rather checkered career.

"I was worried." Jensen shrugged. "I don't know if you remembered me helping Misha bring you up here."

"Last night is not very clear." Peter shook his head.

Jensen had to take care here, he wanted Peter to trust him, hell the kid looked like he needed a friend, but he knew insulting his master would only bring trouble. "What you did was impressive." He decided on complimenting him. "I couldn't have stayed conscious, never mind keep silent."

Peter gave him a wan smile. "Practice."

That word hurt, for some reason. Jensen knew people who got off on pain. Hell, one of his best friends from the academy was the biggest pain slut he'd ever met. If Tom had been on that cross, he wouldn't have been able to keep silent, but his cries would have been of pleasure, not pain. Peter didn't strike him as a masochist, and he clearly endured far more than the average sub. Jensen just didn't know why.

Apparently no one did, judging by the way everyone kept asking Peter. Jensen would just have to be the one person who didn't ask.

"The palace is amazing," Jensen said, changing the subject. "It's almost like a city itself. I couldn't imagine growing up here."

Peter smiled. "It was easy to get lost here, if one wished."

"Still is," Jensen mused.

"What is it like? Where you come from?"

Jensen shrugged. How to explain the Texas ranch where he'd spent his childhood? Could Peter even conceive of the acres of land that stretched into nowhere? The way the sun beat down without relief, or how the sudden rain could flood the desert out of nowhere? He opened his mouth and he tried, telling a story about teaching Jared to ride, barely remembering how it felt to be that young and carefree.

"Thank you," Peter said, and Jensen wasn't really sure if it was for the story or for not talking about Peter's master.

"I should let you rest." Jensen gave a little bow before turning to go.

Much to his surprise, in the hallway he found Misha and his mistress, presumably coming to visit Peter as well.

"Sub Jensen!" Claudia grinned at him. "How good of you to visit Sub Peter."

Jensen shrugged, he didn't know if this behavior was expected or not.

"Do you and your master have plans for the afternoon?"

He shook his head. "We didn't arrange any lessons for today," Jensen said, meaning Misha's past few excursions. The day had contained enough headaches, he really wanted to go back to his suite and nap before dinner.

Claudia lowered her voice. "I was hoping we'd get a chance to scene with you and Commander Morgan. May we call on you after Misha is done here?"

Jensen blinked at her words. "You may," he said, "But my master will need to approve."

"Of course," she said, as if that had been obvious. "I look forward to it."

And surprisingly, so did Jensen.

***

Jeff expected the knock when it came, warned in advance when Jensen returned from visiting Peter, the color high in his cheeks. He didn't know exactly what Duchess Claudia meant when she wanted to scene with them, but Jeff had a darn good idea. It didn't mean he had to agree, so he sent Jensen into the playroom when he answered the knock in the sitting room.

Claudia wore an outrageous black leather bustier, with straps crisscrossing over her neck, and matching boots that reached her thighs, obvious under the scraps of fabric that served as a skirt. Misha, in his usual kilt, knelt beside her, head down and more subdued than Jeff had ever seen him.

"I hope Sub Jensen told you I intended to visit." She gave Jeff a seductive smile.

"He did." Jeff eyed Misha, suddenly unsure. "I'm not sure what else you intend."

"A short scene between friends." Claudia reached out to pat Misha's head. "My boy has been so glum all day. I hope to cheer him up."

Jeff cleared his throat. "I'm not used to sharing."

Her face changed, the seductive mien melting into sincerity. "I'd respect any limits you'd set of course. I won't let Misha fuck anyone else, you see. He can be fucked all he wants, and oh does he want. But that's mine."

With sudden clarity, Jeff understood this was like anything else, a game with rules that he'd yet to learn. "And if I call stop, it stops."

"If any of us calls stop," Claudia agreed.

Jeff stepped aside to let them in, momentarily startled when Misha crawled instead of walked. The sub sure seemed out of sorts to him, and he barely knew the guy. He wondered if it had something to do with Peter's scene from last night, Jensen had met them in the infirmary, after all.

"Jensen's in the playroom," Jeff explained.

She nodded. "Misha, join him. I'll expect both of you naked and prepped by the time we get in there." Claudia smirked at Jeff. "We have to have a moment to plan."

Planning happened over a cup of warm tye Claudia ordered from the Dumb Waiter. Jeff recognized her tactic, giving the boys more time to fret. She set out her plan, plain and simple like any commander to his council of war. He couldn't find any faults in it, so Jeff decided to let her lead. Jensen had his hand signals to warn Jeff if they did something he didn't like.

Jensen and Misha knelt in the center of the playroom, mirror images of each other, both nude and arranged in the same pose, legs spread, palms on their thighs, heads bowed. Jeff never imagined he'd be walking into a room where two naked men awaited his pleasure. The thought sent a jolt through his cock and he let the arousal burn through him slowly, enjoying the anticipation of seeing Claudia work.

She walked into that room like a drill sergeant about to chew out her recruits - head high, shoulders straight, face hard. Just in front of the boys she stopped and crossed her arms. "For the rest of the scene you will both follow my commands, supplemented by Commander Morgan if necessary. Understood?"

Jensen's gaze flickered in Jeff's direction, but he joined in with Misha's "Yes, mistress."

"Sub Jensen, stand for inspection."

Jensen slid to his feet in one smooth motion, spread his legs and placed his hands around his neck. Claudia clucked her tongue as she circled him, regarding his slim muscular body with care.

"Your sub is beautifully trained, Dom Morgan."

Jeff caught the shift in her use of titles and he got it, now he was Jensen's dom, not just Commander Morgan. He leaned against the wall, spreading his legs to make room for his growing erection and nodded at her. "Thank you." It was always good manners to respond to a compliment.

Still behind Jensen, Claudia said, in a low voice, "Touch yourself, sub. Stroke yourself slowly. I want that cock swollen and leaking."

With a shiver, Jensen obeyed, trailing his fingers along his prick, teasing himself into full hardness. His eyes met Jeff's and a pink flush rose up on his cheeks and chest. Jeff let his gaze slide up and down Jensen's body, just appreciating all that flesh on display for him, the way Jensen tormented himself on but a word, his throat working against the collar as he trembled at his own touch.

"Misha," Claudia said, "Get the chair and set it in the middle of the room."

Misha moved to obey, pulling a high-backed chair out of the corner. Jeff hadn't noticed it before, but now it seemed perfectly designed with extra legs and slots in order to bind someone. From where he stood, Jensen still couldn't see the chair, nor the curved dildo Claudia placed on the seat. Her hand stroked it, once, twice, it was stuck on there good.

Jensen began to gasp, slicking his fingers with silvery strands of precome as he continued to stroke himself, speeding up slightly.

"Slow down," Jeff told him. "I think he's ready, Dom Claudia. His cock's a pretty pink."

"Mmm, he is a pretty boy, isn't he?" Claudia took Jeff's comment and ran with it. "Pretty cock, pretty lips, pretty eyes."

Jensen reacted to her words, so subtly that Jeff was sure only he could see it, how Jensen's face locked down, his muscles stiffened. Jeff didn't know why, and Jensen hadn't signaled him to make her stop, so he remained silent for now.

"Now Jensen, turn around and tell me if you can sit on that chair," Claudia said.

Jensen's eyes widened as he caught sight of the dildo propped up on the chair. "You mean on the. . ." He cried out in surprise as Claudia smacked one round ass cheek.

"Stop asking stupid questions, boy, you know exactly what I mean. Now, can you do it?"

He nodded, regarding the dildo with narrowed eyes. Jeff wondered if it was too big for him, it did curve slightly, so perhaps the size was misleading.  "Yes, mistress."

"Then sit," Claudia said.

At her words, Jensen straddled the chair, bracing himself with one hand, and holding the dildo in the other as he slowly sank down on it. Jeff watched the black phallus disappear inside Jensen's body. Jensen took the whole thing, biting his lip in concentration as he bottomed out, impaled on the chair.

Jeff took his cue and stepped forward, curling one hand around Jensen's pretty pink cock. At Jensen's questioning expression, Jeff snapped the metal strip around his cock and balls, the cock ring sealing itself into a perfect circle. Sometimes he just loved the use of technology here. No way would Jensen be able to come now, unless they freed him from the ring. The closer he got, the more the ring would constrict and prevent his release, providing delicious torture.

Claudia handed him two lengths of rope, which he used to tie Jensen's ankles to the legs of the chair. Instead of tying Jensen's arms behind him, Claudia had him hold one arm to either side of his head and bound them to the oversized back of the chair. Then, she wound several lengths of rope around Jensen's torso, forming a crisscrossing pattern between his nipples and around his pecs, compressing his flesh so it looked like he had small breasts.

Jeff couldn't help himself, he ran his thumbs over each nipple, delighting in how they hardened into peaks. Jensen shivered slightly, but with the way he had been bound, couldn't move any further than that. "Nice job," Jeff complimented Claudia's tying skills.

"Thank you." Claudia turned to her sub, who had stood off to the side after retrieving the chair. "Misha, knees, spread yourself."

He sprang to obey, dropping to his knees and reaching back with both hands to pull apart his ass cheeks, his forehead touching the floor to balance himself. Misha was in the perfect position for a good hard fucking. Instead, Claudia inserted a long plug into his ass, tapping it to make sure it was snug. She stepped away, satisfied. "Release, but stay in position."

As Misha shifted his hands behind his back, Claudia came to Jeff's side and handed him a small square shaped device. "Misha's," she indicated the one in her hand, "Jensen's," she pointed to Jeff's. "Tap it to turn it on, stroke upward to increase intensity," she demonstrated and Misha made a squeak as he jolted upright, probably not expecting the vibrations in his ass. "Stroke down to lower the setting, tap again to shut it off."

Jeff just had to try that, so he tapped the device and stroked up slowly. Jensen didn't disappoint, he whimpered as he struggled against his bonds, looking for any sort of relief against the sensation. The ropes held him tight despite his writhing and his cock leaked from where it curved against his belly. Jeff found his finger sliding up the device, wanting to see just how much Jensen could take, how much he would strain against those ropes.

"Please!" Jensen gasped out, eyes wide. Not once did he use one of his hand signals.

Even so, Jeff complied and dialed it down a little bit, but didn't turn it off. He wanted Jensen to keep feeling that thrum inside his ass and know that Jeff put it there, that Jeff controlled if he felt pleasure from it, or pain.

He couldn't help the desire to kiss Jensen, to bite those plush lips so they swelled up nice and plump. So Jeff did it, leaned down and kissed his sub till Jensen gasped into his mouth, out of breath. His fingers found the dial again and pushed the vibrations up as he sucked on Jensen's tongue. When Jensen's moans seemed ready to burst out of his chest, Jeff slid the setting down and stepped away.

"Misha," Claudia said, leaning down to tangle her fingers in his hair and pull his head back. "Why don't you beg Dom Jeff for the privilege of sucking his sub's cock?"

Jensen made a needy noise at the back of his throat at that sound. Of course, Jeff just had to respond. "Don't get too excited. He has to convince me first."

Claudia let go of Misha and stood back, watching as he pushed himself up with his arms and crawled across the room to get to Jeff's feet. "Please, sir," he said.

"You have to say it, sub. Tell me what you want." Jeff's heart thumped with a sudden adrenalin rush, excited at the prospect of denying Misha what he wanted so clearly. The power rested solely in his hands.

Misha looked up through thick lashes, eyes so blue. "Please, Dom Morgan. Let me suck Jensen's cock. I need it. Please."

And Misha knew how to beg, damn the man. Jeff had to clear his throat to get a little of his own back, willing his erection to wait just a little longer. "Tell me how you'd do it."

"I'd taste him first," Misha said. "Lap up his juices so I'd never forget what he tastes like. Then I'd lick him just a little, make him even more wet before I swallow him down until he screams."

"Good boy," Claudia murmured from across the room.

Damn good boy, Jeff thought. He didn't know what gave him the idea, but he gave into the impulse and held out one booted foot. "Show me."

And Misha did, running his tongue all around the tip of Jeff's boot, small licks that turned into kitten nips. "Please," he begged between licks. "Let me suck Jensen."

He swallowed before nodding. "You may. But you can't let him come."

Jensen's head thunked against the back of the chair at those words. When Misha crawled between his legs, he shut his eyes against the slow torture, the sight of his dick disappearing between those pink lips. Jeff threw the dial of the vibrator all the way to the top, and Jensen's eyes flew open as he cried out, arms straining against the ropes, flushing red against the dark threads.

At this point Jeff accelerated their plans a little bit. He undid his pants, pulling out his own cock, stroking it with long smooth strokes. Jensen's eyes stayed on him and his breathing started to come faster. Jeff stepped next to the chair, tilted Jensen's head towards him with one hand and fed him his cock with the other.

Jensen hummed around Jeff's prick, but that's all he did as Jeff controlled the speed, pushing in and out at the pace he wanted. Before he fell too deep into his own lust, Jeff had the presence of mind to ask, "You ok?" under his breath. Two of Jensen's fingers made the 'keep going' signal.

Jeff pushed forward until Jensen's nose bumped against his belly, amazed as how deep Jensen could take him. He pulled back and began to thrust faster, chasing his orgasm. Jensen started to moan continuously, unable to keep silent under the threefold torture of the vibrator, Misha's mouth and Jeff's dick spearing his mouth. Just thinking about all of that had Jeff coming, and he pulled back, letting the drops of his come fall on Jensen's face and chest.

Gasping with the force of that orgasm, oh one hell of an orgasm, Jeff turned to grasp Misha's hair and pull him off of Jensen. "Clean me off," he told him, and Misha whimpered at being taken from his prize. He obeyed though, putting that tongue to use cleaning Jeff of all traces of come. "Now clean him till he shines," Jeff ordered.

Misha crawled up Jensen's body, that tiny pink tongue darting out to lap up every single drop of come. He ended at Jensen's lips, but didn't do anything more but lick up whatever Jeff had left there.

"Good boy," Jeff told him. "Kneel between his legs." He looked up at Claudia. "I think Jensen's been very patient, don't you?"

"Oh yes," she agreed with a smirk.

Jeff reached out and pulled off the cock ring, pushing the setting on the vibrator up even more with his other hand. At Jensen's shout he stroked along that gorgeous cock. "C'mon pretty boy," he murmured, and at his words Jensen's came, shooting all over Misha's face and pale lips.

If Jeff could get hard again so soon, that sight would have done it. "He's all yours," he said to Claudia, running his fingers through Jensen's sweat soaked hair, slowly lowering the setting on the vibrator, but kept it on. Misha wasn't quite done yet. But that was Claudia's prerogative.

Much later, after Claudia had finished tormenting Misha and gained her own pleasure, they retreated to the sitting room. Misha had curled up on one of the large pillows at Claudia's feet and promptly fell asleep, reminding Jeff of nothing so much as a large cat. Jensen had chosen to kneel next to Jeff, his head on Jeff's lap, perfect for Jeff to keep stroking his soft hair.

"He's meant to be bound," Claudia said, sitting low in the divan, looking well sated with a tiny grin on her face. "I think he'd like nothing more than to be tied at your feet."

Jensen's hand tightened on Jeff's knee, and he didn't know how to interpret that. Although Jeff had felt the thrill of excitement throughout the scene, heady with his own power, afterwards he felt tired, drained, and a bit uncertain. He wanted to talk to Jensen, make sure he hadn't hurt him. Until that happened, he wasn't sure what to think.

"You should consider that when you are required to provide the entertainment in the Great Hall."

Jeff stiffened, hand pausing in mid-stroke. "What?" he asked stupidly.

Claudia straightened in her seat. "Each of us takes a turn during the formal dinners. After the fifth night, when the queen shows off her subs, the lesser nobles are invited and the event becomes less of a dinner, more of a . . ." she struggled with words for a moment. "A ball? Subs on display, scenes going on throughout the hall. But I think Michelle will want to see you take a turn."

Of course she would, Jeff thought. How else could he prove his mastery over Jensen? He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it first, so concerned with the possible surveillance in their private rooms Jeff ignored the tendency of these people to make sex theater.

"There is a rope demonstration tomorrow, in the city. I can't go with you, of course, I have dissolutions to read through, and I'll really need Misha's help with that. But you might learn a few things."

"Wait." Jeff held up a hand, there were a few things in there he wanted to dissect, but started with, "Why are you helping us?"

Claudia smiled. "Misha likes Jensen. I'll admit you both fascinate me. As does this strange world you come from.  I'd hate for you to be kicked out of the city before my curiosity is satisfied."

Jeff laughed. "I just hope it doesn't disappoint you. We're really rather boring."

"I doubt that." She stretched her arms, working the kinks out of her shoulders. Jeff guessed that domming could be hard work. "Oh, nice job with the hand signals."

Jensen stiffened in his lap and Jeff fought to look relaxed. "Excuse me?"

Claudia made a little motion. "When you checked on Sub Jensen and he couldn't speak. I usually just squeeze Misha's hand. If he squeezes back, he's fine. But your way has its uses as well. Could Jensen teach them to Misha?"

Jeff smoothed back a section of Jensen's hair. "What do you think, boy? Feel like sharing?"

"Yes, sir," Jensen murmured.

She reached down and tickled just behind Misha's ear. He shivered at the touch and rolled onto his back, exposing his belly like a puppy. "Come boy, we have to get ready for dinner." Claudia tilted her head at Jeff. "Oh, before we leave, let me show you how to use the tele. I tried to contact you through it before, but you weren't set up."

Oh, now that Jeff wanted to know about. He and Jensen walked over to the wall where Claudia ran her fingers over the blank slate. As she did so, the wall became a computer screen. "I'll also give you access to the schedule for the Choosing, so you can see all the events throughout the city, like the rope workshop."

"Appreciate that," Jeff said.

Claudia tapped the screen. "Both of you, state your names, one after the other."

"Jeffrey Dean Morgan."

"Jensen." Jensen said a heartbeat after.

The screen beeped.

"Good. Now when anyone messages you, any wall you are near will flash with an incoming message. Just touch it to make it live."

"Any wall?" Jeff asked.

Claudia grinned. "And you can find the location of anyone you've spoken to before. It does come in handy."

"Sounds like it," Jeff mused.

Afterwards, as they got ready to attend the dinner, he just had to ask again while Jensen pulled out the leather harness Jeff always made him wear to the great hall. "Are you sure you're all right? I mean, with the scene?"

Jensen looked up from smoothing the leather. "Of course. I would have let you know if I wasn't."

Jeff couldn't explain why he felt so let down afterwards. He'd enjoyed everything himself, they hadn't done anything as extreme as the whipping scene from last night, but he still felt bad about tying Jensen down and just using him like that. Even if Jensen had liked it. What gave Jeff the right to treat another human being like an object?

As he walked past, Jensen reached out and squeezed Jeff's arm. "You're doing well," he whispered. "Keep it up."

Right, Jeff reminded himself, the mission. The role the two of them were playing. When had it started to become anything more than that?


	7. Chapter 7

"Well, now this place is starting to look . . . functional."   
   
Maggie looked up from the navigational panel as Whitfield entered the bridge. The team working in the engine room had managed to hook up a power supply and the ship had come alive; the overhead lights flickered, tiny colored lights on all the panels blinked, and the doors slid open as one walked up to them. The ship with its clunky angles and awkwardly placed machinery would never look like the Mercury. Maggie was fond of it though she missed the sleek curves and handy design of their ship.

"Engineering did a good job with the power supply," she said. "They've got power routed everywhere on the ship."

"Huh," Whitfield mused, looking over her shoulder at the mess of wires. "Sure that's wise with the way you've taken everything apart?"

She gave him a grin. "I disconnected it from the grid first. It's fascinating; these ships couldn't even achieve warp three. And they made it all the way out here."

"Thanks to the Isaac Wormhole. That's how they got stranded out here in the first place. Didn't count on the damn thing collapsing."

They were interrupted by a sharp beeping noise. Whitfield put his hands over his ears as Maggie went over to the agitated panel to quell the sound. She paused, fingers over the keys as she read the display. "Oh, stars." Slapping her comm she shouted, "Who's in engine room three? Evacuate, ASAP. I'm getting overclock errors like you wouldn't believe."

Whitfield came up beside her and flipped a few switches. "They still used uranium on these old ships. Might be a radiation risk too."

"Corporal Gyllenhaal, I'm not seeing any energy warnings here," a voice echoed back.

She didn't recognize the voice, but Maggie didn't care. "The bridge is lighting up here. Better safe than sorry and get your asses out of there while I contain the location from here."

"Corporal. . ."

"Just do what she says," Whitfield snarled. "Get your people out of there, Chief."

"Let me know when everyone is out so I can throw up the force fields." Maggie didn't know if 300 year old containment technology would do it, but that's all she had at the moment. The thought of a radiation leak scared her, had they come all this way just to doom the citizens of 328?

Her finger hovered over the activation key. Maggie's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the heat meter increase. Come on, she thought, how long did it take to evacuate? She hoped they weren't taking their fucking time because it was her word over their instruments.

"We're out, Corporal."

Maggie slammed her hand on the key, and prayed she was in time. Just as the force fields went up, a loud boom sounded and the ship rocked to one side. She went flying to the opposite end of the bridge, landing on Whitfield as they both slammed against the wall. "Damn it," she said, pushing herself to her feet. "We have to pull out the power source, or else we're going to lose the whole ship."

"You all right?" Whitfield asked.

She whirled, puzzled at his concern, but when Maggie ran a hand against her forehead to deal with the tickling sensation she realized she was bleeding. "I'm fine. Come on. We have work to do."

"Lead on, Corporal."

***

Peter watched from the shadows, not quite brave enough to actually enter the auditorium, the tall circle of blood red seats around the center stage that hovered in the center. He'd followed Commander Morgan and his sub here, and really, he shouldn't have been surprised to see they'd stopped to take in a demonstration. Morgan had gone on and on about learning their ways, after all. The surprising thing was that they hadn't attended more demonstrations. During the Choosing they had their fill to pick from, training, as mother used to say, didn't stop when one graduated the Schola.

Peter knew that all too well.

He still flinched if anything brushed near his back, even knowing that Nicci had healed him completely. She hadn't even left him with a single scar. A residual ache reminded him that it was just the night before last he'd survived the whip.

The crowd began to applaud, calling Peter's attention to the end of the exhibition. He half hid behind the curtain of one of the entranceways, a lone sub lost behind the rolls of fabric. Otherwise he was sure one of the guards would have said something to him. The rope master bowed in the center of the stage, his subs in various states of bondage around him, one still suspended in midair, another bound spread-eagled to a rack, and the third seemingly free, but wrapped in crisscrossing ropes from head to toe.

"Thank you all for attending. If you have any questions, I will be here to answer them," the master announced. Most of the crowd seemed satisfied and began to make their way towards the exits.

Not Peter's quarry. Morgan and Jensen remained behind, walking towards the hovering stage, which descended to their level. Had they really so little experience in such a thing?

Master told him to learn all he could about Sub Jensen, the green-eyed sub from the stars. Peter snorted at the thought. If ever put on the market, there would be a bidding war for Jensen. No sub in three hundred years had ever been born with green eyes. No dom either, the color simply didn't exist in Harmony.

Peter recalled his first Choosing, when he was just nearing marketable age and there were already whispers. Who would gain the mastery of the son of the queen? He'd been the darling of the nobles then. Now he wondered if anyone remembered who he was. No longer prince with a city to choose from, he'd been locked into a contract far longer than any sub negotiated for their first master.

Stupid, he thought, fixing his gaze on the stage, where the rope master had begun plying his trade on Jensen's pale body, showing Morgan where the knots should fall. He shouldn't be thinking about the past, about the hopes he'd had back then. Master had given him orders, and Peter obeyed. If he relished his extra freedom while he did so, well, no one could blame him.

***

Jensen followed Jeff as they made their way through the palace, familiar enough now that they no longer needed a guide. Although Jensen found he missed little Colin, not only had the kid grown on him, it would be useful to see how young subs were raised. He wondered how much of their lifestyle was ingrained at a young age.

It might explain Peter, who seemed awkward in his skin, and not at all suited for what his master wanted of him. He hadn't been at dinner last night; Adrian had brought another sub in his place, but didn't make any explanations. It had been Duchess Rachel's turn to provide entertainment, and thinking about how she used that hairbrush was enough to get him stiff. There was only one duke left, and Jensen chafed with worry that he and Jeff would be expected to perform next.

This meeting with the queen should clarify things, he thought, although they were ostensibly there to discuss the contract for the UP base. Jensen didn't think she'd forget to tell them something so important.

"Enter!" the voice commanded after Jeff had placed his hand on the door. Instead of the sitting room, they'd been ordered to this location, the negotiations room. Jensen called it the war room in his mind, but he figured he'd been watching far too many old 3D movies.

Instead of a conference room, really what Jensen had expected, the room resembled a sitting room, with chairs and pillows in a circle. A table was set off to the side, so Jensen figured they could pull it over if they needed it.

The queen sat in the chair opposite the door, Sub Fredric at her feet and a woman standing next to her. "Thank you for coming. Please have a seat. Lady Verona, this is Commander Morgan and his sub Jensen."

Verona inclined her head. "Pleasure to meet you both."

"Lady Verona is a contract specialist. I brought her here for her expertise," the queen explained.

Jensen, who had knelt at Jeff's side as he sat, placed his hand on Jeff's thigh. "May I speak?" When Jeff nodded, he went on. "Wouldn't it be proper for us to have our own expert?"

One of the queen's eyebrows went up. "Do you think I would arrange things so unequally as to not allow you access to Lady Verona?"

"No, mistress." Jensen's eyes went to the floor. "But we did leave our own team of experts back at our camp."

Jeff cleared his throat. "Jensen does have a point. Diplomacy isn't necessarily my strong suit."

Michelle smirked in response to that comment. Jeff continued. "If you will permit me, I can contact my camp. Dr. Sasha Barresse. She is one of our negotiators." He pulled out his comm unit from under his tunic. Jensen didn't know where he kept it; he'd had to leave his own back in the room, unable to secret it beneath his far more revealing clothes.

"Do so." The queen nodded.

Jeff dialed a comm code and pushed connect. After a moment they heard: "Barresse here."

"Dr. Barresse. This is Commander Morgan. I am in a meeting with Queen Michelle and others. May I put you on holo?"

"Of course."

Jeff touched a button and the device projected an image of the good doctor in front of them, as if she were standing among them. Barresse smiled and gave a polite little bow to the queen.

"Astonishing," Michelle murmured, standing to attempt to touch the figure. Her hand went through the hologram of course. "Perhaps there is something we can learn from you after all."

"I hope so, your majesty," Barresse said politely. "For example, has Commander Morgan told you we've found one of the ships the colonists used to come to this planet?"

"He has not mentioned it, no."

"I'd only learned myself last night," Jeff said. "When I checked in with my team. They hadn't yet gotten the power up and running."

"Then I get to tell you that our engineers have done that this morning." Barresse grinned at them. "I can forward you some images, Commander, so you can share them with the queen."

Michelle looked thoughtful. "How far from Harmony is this ship?"

"Harmony is the city," Jeff explained quickly for Barresse's benefit.

"About ten kilometers west. Not terribly close."

"But not far either," Michelle said softly.

Jensen wondered if she realized how insular they had become, not venturing past their little utopia behind safe walls. Something had brought the colonists here, and perhaps the logs on this ship would tell them why.

"The commander," Michelle began, "wishes to obtain permission for your people to build a base on our planet. I'm inclined to think it may be a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Barresse didn't bat an eye at the sudden introduction of the base idea, making Jensen wonder if she too had been in the know. "Certainly. I'd be happy to facilitate negotiations for such an arrangement."

Jensen wondered if Barresse would attempt to get an invitation to inside the city. The queen hadn't explained why she'd only permitted Jeff, but perhaps she'd explain now.

"I think the best place to begin," Barresse began to say, but the rest of her words were cut off by a loud blast, and the hologram fizzled out for a moment.

"Dr. Barresse, Barresse come in. Are you all right?" Jeff cut in. "What happened?"

She turned around, obviously looking at something they couldn't see. "I don't know Commander."

Jeff hit another button on the comm. "Brown, come in."

"Bit busy here, Commander," Brown's voice responded.

"Sit rep, Brown."

"Some kind of explosion on the ship. Give me ten, I need to find out what went down."

He signed off with an annoying click. The hologram of Barresse hovered for a moment, Jeff still hadn't cut that connection.

"Will you require healers?" The queen asked, looking from the image of the doctor back to Jeff. "I offer our best."

"Thank you," Jeff said, sounding surprised. He tried the comm again. "Brown, do you require medical assistance? We've got an offer here."

"Negative, commander, so far we've got some cuts and bruises. Nothing the medics can't handle. Thank Corporal Gyllenhaal for that, she threw the ship's force shields up just in time."

Jensen met Jeff's eyes, a little smug at the fact that bringing Gyllenhaal along had been his idea.

"What caused the explosion?" Jeff asked.

"Sounds like a bad connection to our power supply." Brown growled. "I'll report in later, I need to handle this."

"You do that, Commander," Jeff said. "I expect to hear from you by 1800."  
    
"Got it."

Jeff closed both connections, the hologram of Barresse winking out. "I apologize, I'm afraid we'll have to discuss terms at another time."

"Of course." The queen turned to look at Lady Verona, who had watched the entire exchange in wide-eyed silence. "Although this discussion was most illuminating. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, mistress," Verona said. "Very educational. I believe I know where to begin drafting the contract."  
    
"See to it."

Verona bowed her head and then left the room, presumably to begin her work.

The queen took her seat once more, resting one hand on the back of her sub's neck. Her brow furrowed, and Jensen wondered what she made of all this.

"I wish that had gone better," Jeff said, half an apology.

"Not your fault, Commander. I don't expect these negotiations to be completed in one day. But that is what the time of the Choosing is for. Contracts and bargains struck." She frowned. "Tomorrow night is usually the dinner in which I provide the entertainment."

Oh, Jensen thought, leaning back against Jeff's legs, here it comes.

"I would defer my turn to you, if you wish."

Well, Jensen thought, at least she wasn't making it an order. But it would be very bad form for Jeff to refuse. They'd gone to the rope demonstration that morning as Claudia suggested just for this very purpose. Neither of them were the type to back down from a challenge.

"Thank you," Jeff said. "We are honored."

She smiled, as if aware of the undertone of Jeff's comment. "And tonight, with your permission, I would invite Sub Jensen for another game of tournabout."

Jeff at this point had learned not to look like he was checking with Jensen before giving permission. He only pressed his leg against Jensen's back and Jensen leaned back, giving his assent. "Of course."

Jensen wondered if playing the board game was all the queen had in mind.

***

"I should be out there," Jeff said.

Jensen could see the agitation in the lines of Jeff's body, the way he held himself stiff, his eyes always darting to the west, as if he could see the camp from here. Well, they were pretty high up, but no one had vision that good without a scope. He'd dragged Jeff out to the gardens in an attempt to soothe him. They couldn't leave the city right now, not when they'd made so much progress.

"You left Lieutenant Commander Brown in charge," Jensen said. "Obviously you think he's a capable commander. Trust him to handle it."

Jeff gave him a small smile. "You're right."

"Of course," Jensen said. "I usually am."

So it was with a laugh that they came up on the princess Alona, sitting on one of the ornate benches in the garden, surrounded by baskets of leather and leather-working supplies, a sort of mini-loom on her lap. She looked up from her work at their appearance. "Oh, good day."

"Good day, Alona," Jeff said. "Sorry to have interrupted you."

"Oh, no, I'm just working on a courting gift. It's just not coming out well at all." She frowned down at the length of leather in her hands.

"You decided on who to court then?" Jeff asked, coming closer. He gestured to the chair and she nodded, so he sat beside her. Jensen went to take his place on his knees, surprised that the stonework felt soft, as if the very structure of the ground had changed to meet his needs.

"I have hopes. I won't find out until tomorrow if he's agreed. Still, I need to be prepared." She pulled one of the baskets on her lap and sorted through the lengths of leather. "And I'm having the worst time in deciding which design to shape, what color to use, whether I should use rivets or not."

Jensen hid his smile, she sounded so perplexed, so much like a girl with her first crush. Or, he guessed, a dom with her first sub.

"I don't want it to look cheap, that would be insulting. But I'm afraid I'm just not very good at leatherworking."

Jensen wondered what kinds of gifts were acceptable, if they had to be handmade or not. When the princess asked what Jeff had given Jensen, he bit his lip and turned away. He should have laughed at that, knowing this was only a charade. But Jensen longed for the day when a dom would try to woo him, not quite in the same way Alona had in mind, but at least chase Jensen for who he was, not what he was.

Jeff didn't have to answer, because Colin came up the path, toting a floating basket behind him, filled with even more lengths of leather. He dropped it at Alona's feet and scowled at her.

"I hope you can find something out of his basket. Why can't you just have the leatherworker help you?"

"Colin, you know it has to be handmade. Or else it doesn't mean anything," she chided him.

He snorted in a way that made him look much older, Jensen thought, more like a teen and less like the boy Jensen had thought him. "As if you could possibly make a match with someone you found on the street!"

"Colin!" Alona's cheeks flushed a bright red.

"It's stupid, Alona: standing around; hoping to be bought. But you'll never know what that's like!" Colin spat out before turning and stalking away from them, deeper into the garden.

Jensen put his hand on Jeff's thigh, but Jeff said, "Go after him," already ahead of Jensen on this one.

It wasn't hard to keep up after Colin, he made plenty of noise stomping through the gardens. Jensen caught up with him on a terrace with a view of the ocean; Colin had curled up on the stone ledge, gazing out into the distance.

"Colin?" he asked, not wanting to approach if the boy really wanted to be alone.

Colin drew his arm across his eyes, wiping away tears. "Sorry," he said. "Shouldn't have gotten mad in front of you."

"Will you be punished?" Jensen asked, approaching slowly.

"Only if Alona tells. She won't."

"Ah." Jensen leaned against the ledge, not looking at Colin, letting the boy speak at his own pace. He'd gotten used to being a big brother, being there for Jared when the kid suffered through high school while going through his gene treatments. Now that Jared was all grown up, Jensen found he missed it a bit, being the rock that his brother relied on. Although he'd bet Jared would say otherwise.

"How do you do it?" Colin asked, so low Jensen could barely hear him. "Leave everything you've ever known to be owned by someone you don't know."

Jensen coughed. "Things are a little different where I come from." Although he realized he wasn't the best person to explain this, he'd made a career out of being owned by strangers. "And I think your perspective might change a little when you're older."

Colin gave him a look, as if he'd heard that before. "I'm not a child," he said.

Jensen bit his lip to keep from smiling at that. "I'm not saying you are. But you'll find you may look at things a bit differently."

He shrugged. "After training, I guess. I just. I just don't want to end up broken."

The heartache in those words hurt and Jensen gave in to the impulse to put his hand on Colin's arm. To his relief the boy didn't flinch.

"Broken and with no home. My parents are both subs. I'll never really have a home to go back to."

"I don't think that's true. Do you really think the queen would let that happen?" Jensen knew he was grasping at straws, he barely knew the woman.

Before Colin could answer, a rustling of the leaves behind them alerted them both to a third presence. Jensen, expecting Jeff or Alona, sat up straight at the sight of Peter standing near a bed of blue and purple flowers. If anyone had been the cause of Colin's distress, Jensen would pin the blame on this young sub. For once, Peter wore actual clothing, a dark blue tunic over crimson trousers, instead of the leather kilt. And he smiled, lighting up his whole face.

"Hello Colin, didn't expect to find you here. I was looking for Sub Jensen." He nodded at Jensen. "Your master sent me in this direction."

Colin pushed himself off of the ledge and launched himself at Peter, hugging him around the waist. "Easy." Peter laughed, but he put his arms around the boy. "It's good to see you too." He ruffled Colin's hair before stepping back. "Were you telling tales?"

"Never," Colin said, but his grin didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have lessons now."

"Well, listen to your tutors, then," Peter said as he sent the boy off.

Jensen stayed by the ledge, watching as a myriad of expressions ran over the other sub's face. The grin faded to worried and then determined as he looked back at Jensen.

"What did you want to speak to me about?" Jensen asked.

"Oh." Peter ducked his head. "I wanted to thank you for visiting me at the healer's. It meant a lot."

Jensen shrugged, feeling slightly guilty he had gone to learn more about Peter. "Um. No problem."

"I liked your stories about where you come from." Peter finally approached and hopped up on the ledge where Colin had just vacated. "I wanted to return the favor. And hear more, of course. Your world must be very strange."

"Not that strange to me." Jensen smiled.

Peter looked out into the distance. "This is where my sister and I used to play test the force field." At Jensen's look he explained, "Throw ourselves off the terrace. The force field would bounce us back. Father punished us both when he caught us."

Jensen frowned. "And your father is?"

The question didn't seem unexpected; in fact Peter gave him a wry smile. "Fredric. The queen's Primary."

"Can doms only have children with their primary subs?" Jensen asked. He still didn't know how that was regulated, and how two subs could have a child.

"No. Children are usually contracted in advance. A dom can even contract with another dom's sub for a child."

"Ok, now I find your world strange."

Peter laughed and Jensen found he liked hearing the sound of his laughter, and how it made his whole face change, look open and carefree. He looked so different than he had that night, bound to the X. Jensen realized Peter looked free, despite his collar, without his master.

"I think the more we share," Peter said. "The less strange it all would be."

Jensen couldn't help but agree.

***

Jeff slipped his comm out as soon as he managed to get away from the princess, after telling her that yes, chocolate brown was a perfect color for her leatherwork.  He paused under a tree with low hanging leaves, and a clear view of the path back to the interior of the palace, so he could see Jensen when he returned. Only then did he punch in the code for the Mercury.

"Devine here. You're a little early for your daily report, Commander."

"Yes sir. I'm interested in an update on the situation at the base camp."

He could hear her heavy sigh even over the static on the line. "Minor injuries, Commander. It could have been much worse."

Which is why Jeff chafed, needing to be there, to check his people out, make sure everything was okay. He shook his head, knowing there was nothing he could do about it now, and there were two people here who counted on him. "What's the situation with the relic ship?"

"I've ordered them to disconnect all power sources until the logs have been scoured. None of those fools is an expert in ancient tech."

"The logs themselves are incredibly valuable," Jeff said. They'd have access to the actual diaries of the original colonists, the first time ever in the reclamation project. None of the other ships they'd encountered had been in one piece, never mind salvageable.

"Cohen's historians are shitting themselves with glee."

Jeff choked on a laugh. "I bet."

"We wouldn't even have them if it weren't for Gyllenhaal. What ever made you add her to the roster?"

"It was Lieutenant Ackles' idea," Jeff said.

"A damn good one. What's the status on your progress?"

"Finding that ship actually did a lot more for our case. We've got proof now that these people came from somewhere else. We're going to start negotiations for the base."

"Good. Run any provisions by me before you agree to them."

"Yes, sir. Morgan out." He closed the connection. To think, two weeks ago, all he had to worry about was bringing his people home, convincing the queen that Jeff was a capable master. Now, he had to negotiate a prime base for the UP, worry about his team blowing up ancient technology, and then there was Jensen.   
Jeff wasn't sure why he added Jensen to that list, so far the young man proved more than capable of the challenges facing them. Of course, the rapport they had developed would be more than tested tomorrow night when they had to perform in front of the queen's court. Now that he'd gotten a chance to know most of them, Jeff felt uncomfortable with the idea of having to perform sexually in front of them. Although to be technical, it was only Jensen who really needed to be on display.

He heard the sound of laughter and looked over to see Jensen coming down the path with Peter. Whatever Peter had said, it caused Jensen's face to transform, his lips stretched into a wide grin, those adorable crinkles appearing around his eyes. Jeff didn't like the sour curl in his stomach at that sight, and he couldn't explain the cause of it.

Instead he merely stepped out of the shadow of the tree, surprising both subs.

"Did you even talk to Colin?" Jeff asked, his tone sharp.

"Yes, sir. He had to go to his lessons," Jensen answered, eyes lowered.

"I'm glad he has a sense of responsibility." Implied of course, that Jensen did not.

Peter took the opportunity to bow and excuse himself. "Till dinner."

Once he'd gone, Jensen murmured, "You're laying it on a little thick."

Even Jeff realized that, but he didn't respond.

***

When Jensen arrived at the queen's sitting room that evening, he expected the queen to be in her customary chair, her sub at her feet as she set up the tournabout game. Instead, Fredric stood at the Dumb Waiter, pouring steaming liquid from a pitcher into two mugs. He looked up at Jensen's entry and smiled.

"Good evening, Sub Jensen."

Jensen blinked, not accustomed to hearing the man's voice. Hell, he wasn't used to seeing the man standing and not on his knees. "Oh. Uh. Good evening, Sub Fredric." He hoped he used the right address, it seemed all subs were equal despite their doms.

"You're surprised to see me." Fredric gave him a gentle smile. He set the tray with the mugs down on a side table before kneeling gracefully on his customary royal blue pillow.

Jensen sank into the pillow across from him, still disconcerted. Perhaps the queen would be delayed? "Not to see you." Jensen said, "Seeing only you."

Fredric laughed. Then his expression sobered as he picked up one of the mugs and cradled it between his hands. "I wanted the chance to speak with you."

"Sub to sub?" Jensen said. At Fredric's confused look he said, "The queen isn't coming, is she?"

"No. Feel free to make the first move, however." Fredric gestured to the tournabout board, already set up.

Jensen picked up a frog and set the opening gambit. "What did you wish to speak with me about?"

"Many things. Anything you feel you cannot say in front of the queen."

"Only to have you inform her of everything I say." Jensen looked up, relieved for once to be able to look someone in the eye.

Fredric took his own move in the game. "We've ruled for a long time. Everything I know is hers."

"'We?'" Jensen echoed.

"I was a green band long before I wore the gold." Fredric gestured to his collar.

Jensen tried to remember what Misha had said green represented. Like his own red collar, it required special training; green bands were subs who could dominate other subs. Yes, it would make sense that the queen had a sub like that, she couldn't take charge of her 200 subs without some help. "I don't recall what the gold means," he said.

"Gold is for life," Fredric explained. "When my mistress breathes her last, so will I."

Okay, Jensen thought, that was rather morbid. He couldn't imagine committing to a single person in such a way. "Oh," he said.

"There is normally a progression, you see. New subs rarely start out with their first masters in black."

Except for Peter, Jensen thought, wondering why the young prince had made that commitment at such a young age. He'd told Jensen he'd been Adrian's sub for five years, ever since he turned 21 and was deemed old enough to require a master. "I'm not a new sub," he clarified his own collar, "And we don't recognize the same structure you do."

"So how long are you bound to Commander Morgan for?" Fredric asked, using his wolf to cower a group of Jensen's rabbits on the game board.

"For as long as I need to be," Jensen answered honestly. He and Jeff had decided not to lie, worried there would be some kind of lie detectors built into the walls here, but they had figured out a few ways to equivocate.

"Mmm. I prefer contracts with a set date. You can be sure of them ending then." He put his mug down. "I wanted to thank you for aiding my son the other night."

Jensen thought of how different Peter had been that very afternoon, so open and talkative, different from the dour silent sub he'd taken to the healers. Even during dinner this evening, Peter had seemed different, more willing to chat in the kitchens with the other subs, much to Misha's surprise at least. "I was happy to do it."

"What do you think of Duke Adrian?" Fredric asked, point blank.

Adrian had offered Jeff more of Peter's time in teaching them about Harmony. He had been polite to a fault during the exchange, but even that conversation had set Jensen's teeth on edge. Something about the man just bothered him, although he couldn't say way, and he wasn't prepared to judge him based on the single scene Jensen had witnessed, especially with the differences in Peter's behavior.

"I don't know him," Jensen answered, again honest. He'd learned to listen to his instincts in this job, but the prickling sensation at the back of his neck hardly counted as thoughts.

"Ah. I was hoping to get an unbiased opinion," Fredric said.

"I'm hardly qualified," Jensen shot back. "Since I've only been here for a few days."

Fredric looked down at the game board, as if he suddenly realized Jensen had turned three-quarters of the board to his side. "Yet you seem to have mastered this game."

"Sub Misha gave me a few tips." Jensen shrugged.

"He's been known to do that," Fredric said dryly. "I'm curious as to how we seem to you. You say you're not the norm where you come from. We can't imagine that. But I wonder, if that's so, if Harmony feels more like a home to you."

Were all these people incredibly insightful? Jensen wondered if he could go for an hour without someone pointing out something they shouldn't have noticed. It made him worry that their deception was really no deception at all, that every master and sub could see the truth of his and Jeff's relationship

"It seems unreal," Jensen finally admitted.

"Would you tell me more about your world?" Fredric asked, pale eyes curious.

Jensen took a deep breath. "Well, first, it's actually, worlds. UP stands for United Planets. Each planet sends a representative to the council of Senators, who make decisions for anything that concerns the entire UP. Otherwise each world does govern itself. I'm from a planet called Earth, though I wasn't born there. My parents escaped Sienna, one of the more war torn planets when I was four years old . . ." 

Fredric proved an attentive listener and Jensen knew all that he said would be carried back to the queen, if she weren't already watching from somewhere else. Jensen found he didn't mind, he liked the older sub, found him fascinating, in fact. Perhaps it wasn't so far fetched to think someone could be happy, submitting to his lover for so long. Jensen wasn't an expert on long-term relationships, but it was nice to imagine the possibilities.


	8. Chapter 8

Maggie much preferred having her hands in the guts of some machine over sitting here and chewing on three hundred year old logs. However, the captain's decree made sense, especially in the light of the engineering team fucking it up the first time. They needed to know the Raleigh from the inside out before attempting any more power hookups.

Although Maggie wished that could be done from working in the actual ship. She sighed, and queued up the list of logs assigned to her, wondering where to start first. The list had been divided last night, with no regard for area of expertise, so she had plenty of personal diaries in addition to anything remotely helpful.

Whitfield knocked on the hull of the shuttle, and Maggie looked up from her work with a smile. "Tell me you brought lunch?"

"Turkey on rye, hold the pickles." He brought one of the handy MRE boxes into the shuttle and tossed it her way.

She laughed before ripping into it. At least it was food.

"So did you get commed fifteen times by Morgan last night asking for the sit rep?"

Maggie shook her head. "I only got two calls. One from Morgan, the other from Ackles."

"Huh," Whitfield said, sliding in to sit next to her. "Surprised they let the kid talk in there."

"Were you on the team that made it into the city?"

He shook his head. "Nah, heard 'em talking about it though. Whips, gags, all that kinda crap. You know, there's a club like that on the border. . ."

Maggie gave in to the impulse to smack him upside the head, but he only laughed. She went back to her sandwich, but her thoughts raced. Ackles had told her she couldn't possibly imagine what his job was like, and she understood that. Her worry for him now was a natural extension of her concern for her brother. Jake had commed her only yesterday, and he'd decided to go ahead with joining the Sex Corps. And the last thing she wanted to imagine was her baby brother being sent to a planet where he'd be gagged and whipped.

The sandwich didn't taste very good right now.

***

Jeff woke with a start, unsettled, his mind racing with the threads of dreams he had no desire to hold onto in the light of day. For a moment the light streaming in through the large glass windows confused him, he had no such windows on the Mercury. Then he caught sight of Jensen perched on the end of the bed, clad in nothing more than a tight pair of leggings and everything came back to him.

He pushed himself up, running a hand through his sweaty hair, making a face at the sensation. What, had he run a marathon in his sleep?

Jensen stared at him oddly, until he finally broke down and asked, "Who's Katie?"

Jeff froze, hearing that name come of Jensen's lips had his blood running cold. "Where did you hear that?"

Jensen bit his lip. "You were calling for her, just before you woke up."

Goddamn nightmares, he hadn't had one in over six months. Jeff didn't understand why he had one now, nothing about this place reminded him of Katie. "She was my wife," he said, his voice a hoarse strangle in his throat.

"Oh," Jensen said. "And she's. . .?"

"Dead," he answered, surprised the word wasn't harder to say. "When the Confeds blew up her planet 18 months ago." He could still count down the days, the minutes, the seconds of how long it had been. "I was on the other side of the damned galaxy, fighting a stupid battle over trade routes."

Jensen didn't say anything, though his eyes were heavy lidded. He reached out and placed his hand over Jeff's heart, his skin cool against Jeff's overheated flesh. Jeff counted his heartbeats, the length of time Jensen said nothing, waiting for Jeff to deal with his own grief.

"I need to shower." Jeff pulled away. He couldn't be with Jensen right now, not with the dream still caught in his mind. I'm sorry, Katie, he thought, turning the water on high, you deserved so much better than me.

***

Jensen fingered the soft fabric of the bedcovers. He hadn't known about Jeff's loss, and his fingers itched for his comm, to go back and search the news feed for more information about this mysterious woman he knew nothing about. The battle must have occurred while Jensen was on assignment, sometimes he got so swept up in the minutia of a mission that the bigger events often passed him by.

Well, maybe Jeff would tell him more, now that Jensen knew. He felt strange, to have learned something so important through a dream. This place caused messed up dreams, but Jensen had not dreamt of his parents, or of Danneel, or any of the missions that had gone terribly wrong. He just continued to hear that voice, calling out for him. "What are you trying to tell me?" he murmured.

Today Jeff had to get his head in the game; they had to practice for later, for the demonstration in front of the queen and her court. The importance of this one event had his stomach tied in knots, he didn't know if Jeff was ready, and despite how well things had been going, all the goodwill could be destroyed if they fucked up tonight.

Jensen realized his fingers had tightened over the covers, the fabric straining with the force of his grip. He let go. Someone had to be on their game today, and it was Jensen's duty to make sure that person was him. This was his job, damn it, and he'd told Jeff time and time again to let him do it.

So Jensen went about the morning tasks, setting out breakfast, making the bed, and lastly, set out the lengths of rope they had picked up from the equipment master after watching the rope demonstration yesterday. The strands were soft, but strong, Jensen didn't have to worry about the rope failing. He wouldn't be breaking any bonds tied with these any time soon. Jeff had asked for green, and had gotten dark forest green colored ropes that would look startling against Jensen's pale skin. They seemed to have accepted his unusual eye color, though everyone wanted to point it out, giving him green clothes, green ropes, and even green leather kilts. He didn't like being noticed.

Jeff emerged from the shower, his skin pink and still damp. He had a towel around his waist and frowned at the selection of ropes Jensen had laid on the bed.

"We need to practice," Jensen explained.

"Not before breakfast."

"Of course not."

After the meal, during which Jensen chattered about his meeting with Sub Fredric, Jeff seemed more like himself, apparently putting the nightmare behind them. Good, they could get down to business then.

"So you think Fredric rules with the queen?" Jeff asked, soaking up the last bits of his egg with some warm bread.

"Not explicitly, no." Jensen started to collect the plates. "But I think he has his own role to play in the decisions the queen makes."

"It's a good thing he's taken a shine to you then."

Jensen frowned, remembering how Fredric had seemed to see right through him. "We'll find out soon enough."

"Are you meeting with Misha or Peter today?" Jeff asked.

"I cleared my calendar," Jensen said with a grin. "We have to figure out tonight. It's more important than anything else."

Jeff nodded. For the first time, he looked worried. "Do you think we can do this?"

Jensen straightened up. Despite his doubts, he needed to be strong for the both of them. "I know we can do this. Now come on, let's practice tying me up."

He was glad to hear the sound of Jeff's laughter follow him into the playroom.

***

Jeff picked at his food at dinner, he remembered in time to feed Jensen at his feet, to make sure his sub was not hungry before the entertainment began. Jensen took a few bites, but waved more food away with a shake of his head. Perhaps he was just as nervous as Jeff.

Or maybe he just had more sense than to eat before a very public sex act that would see him bound by countless ropes. Jensen had been in this situation before, that's what Jeff told himself. Jensen would be fine. Jeff just had to worry about himself.

"Tonight," the queen said as the food was cleared away and the table removed. "Instead of our traditional fifth night, I have deferred to Commander Morgan."

Jeff gazed at the faces of the others, noticing who looked surprised and who didn't. Adrian had a sly smile on his face; the bastard had probably been looking forward to seeing Jensen naked since they had arrived there. Rachel exchanged a look with Leonard, and that caught Jeff by surprise, that the youngest and oldest of the court seem to be in agreement on something. He made a mental note to discuss it afterwards with Jensen.

He stood, trying to not look as stiff and uncomfortable as he felt. Jeff allowed Jensen to pick out his clothing, and ended up in, to his chagrin, the leather pants he really hadn't wanted to wear. But they had an unlaceable crotch, and would enable Jeff to free himself with a minimum of fuss. And, Jensen had added with a smile, they apparently looked damn good on Jeff's ass.

Well, Jensen might be a bit biased. "Thank you, Queen Michelle," he said, giving her a nod of his head in respect. "Because I am so new to your city and your ways, Duchess Claudia has volunteered to help me with some of the equipment." She'd also step in if Jeff screwed up, and he counted her a valuable ally.

"Jensen." He turned from the center of the circle of chairs and pillows. "Strip and bring your ropes here."

Jensen slid to his feet with the grace of a dancer. In this moment, he became something else, a sensual creature with the singular goal of performing for the crowd. The look on his face was alien to Jeff, beautiful of course, because Jensen could never not be beautiful, but lacking in the qualities that made him Jensen, his sense of humor, that quirky grin, those crinkles in the corners of his eye. No, this Jensen had rimmed his eyes with black liner, making them look larger and more intense than ever; his lips were pressed together in a perfect pout, as if awaiting Jeff's pleasure.

He stripped easily, sliding off the leather kilt and stepping out of the sandals, leaving himself completely bare. Jeff had noticed from their first encounter how comfortable Jensen seemed with his own nudity, and that hadn't changed as Jensen gathered up the length of rope tied in a loop and carried it to Jeff. He didn't even blush, even though all eyes in the room followed him.

Jeff nodded and took the length of rope, undoing the knot at the end so he could pull the loose bit free. "Stand straight, and hold out your arms." He needed access to Jensen's torso.

Jensen moved into position, lifting his chin high and stretching out his arms to either side.  His skin was porcelain clear, and gleamed slightly from whatever powder he'd spread over himself before they'd left their quarters. When Jeff ran the first length of rope around his torso, the dark green stood out in stark relief against Jensen's smooth body. Jeff found he missed the freckles, missed counting the tiny reddish brown specs with his tongue.

He knew it would take years to master the kind of rope bondage they'd seen the night before, but all Jeff had to do was pick a pattern and emulate it. It didn't have to be pretty, as long as it worked. His hands remembered the knots, and the order of which rope to pull where. Jeff had to zone out the eyes that watched him intently, or else he wouldn't be able to do this.

Jeff worked the pattern around Jensen's torso, creating a harness made out of ropes, that crisscrossed over Jensen's nipples and then again over his navel, putting that glittering ring on display. Then he moved down, between Jensen's legs, knotting the ropes in diamond patterns down his thighs and calves. When he finished, Jeff circled his sub, reaching out here and there to test his work, to make sure the knots held. They did.

"Kneel," Jeff commanded softly.

Jensen dropped to his knees, his arms still held out as Jeff had ordered. Jeff crouched beneath him and used more rope to bind Jensen's calves to his thighs. "Put your arms behind your back." He kept his voice low and even, he never needed to repeat an order.

When Jensen obeyed, Jeff bound his arms together, once again using the intricate diamond pattern he'd learned only yesterday. He gave one last tug to make sure everything was good and tight before standing and stepping away to admire the whole picture.

The ropes looked like they belonged on Jensen's skin, as if he should always be bound at Jeff's feet, for his pleasure. Jeff had to stop feeling guilty about enjoying this, at the way his cock thickened and filled at the sight of the man kneeling there, helpless until Jeff decided otherwise. Jensen's gaze flickered up at him, heavy under those long eyelashes, but Jeff couldn't read the thoughts behind it. But he could tell that Jensen wasn't unaffected, not the way his dick rested, flush and full against the ropes on one thigh.

Jeff had to pull himself away from just looking. They had planned for much more than this. "Duchess Claudia." He inclined his head.

She gave him a smile, before moving to stand by his side. "Nice work," she murmured under her breath, before she raised her arms and summoned the ropes from the ceiling. Jeff didn't know how the hell she did that, but he expected it worked something like the way his suite read his thoughts when he asked for sex toys. Jeff would just never figure to ask for such a thing.

Claudia stayed to help him connect the ropes to Jensen, surreptitiously checking each knot. Neither of them wanted Jensen to fall. And then she disappeared back to her seat, one hand on Misha's hair.

Jeff touched the ropes and mentally commanded them to rise. He felt a little thrill in his chest when they did, suspending Jensen in the air, raising him slowly at first until the ropes all evened out and Jensen was posed on his belly, just at the height of Jeff's crotch.

He took a moment to stroke his fingers through Jensen's hair, soft and sweaty. A pink flush rose through Jensen's body as he gasped at the sensation of being suspended, his arms caught behind back, his legs in a hogtied position. Jeff checked, but Jensen didn't give him any finger signals. He took that as a sign to continue.

"Look at you, slut," he said, circling Jensen again, trailing his fingers over the ropes along Jensen's back and buttocks. Jensen tried to squirm under the touch, but he could barely move. Jeff liked watching him try. He flicked his thumb over Jensen's entrance, shiny slick from Jensen's prep work before dinner. Soon he'd be encased in that tight hot heat.

But, first thing's first. He needed to remind Jensen who he belonged to.

Jeff walked back until he stood before Jensen's face, and then he undid the laces on the front of his pants. He released his cock with a sigh of relief, glad to no longer be constrained. As he stroked the length of it, Jensen's eyes followed the movement, his tongue darting out to lick pink lips. Fuck, the kid was gonna kill him.

"Suck it, get it nice and wet," he told Jensen, before feeding him his dick, inch by inch. Jeff had to close his own eyes, because damn if Jensen didn't know how to suck cock, with those sinful lips and that hot mouth. If he had the choice, right now he'd just let Jensen suck him down, but that wasn't in the plan.

Jeff pulled out and smacked his cock against Jensen's face, smearing pre-come along his cheeks. Jensen gasped, looking up at Jeff with pupils blown, like he was on a drug or something, and not just blissed out.

Fuck, the idea of Jensen being so turned on just from sucking Jeff's cock, that did something to him. Jeff moved behind Jensen and pushed his thighs apart, knowing it must be uncomfortable, liking the way Jensen whimpered in reaction. He smacked his hand against one buttock, enjoying the way Jensen's skin turned scarlet under the ropes.

"Do you want it, boy?" Jeff said in a low deep growl. He smacked Jensen's ass again when he didn't answer.

"Please," Jensen whispered, his voice so strangled that Jeff's eyes immediately went to Jensen's fingers, making sure he was still ok.

When he didn't receive a stop signal, Jeff continued, lining his cock up with Jensen's slick entrance and slid inside. He didn't go slow or gentle, just thrust in, curling his fingers around the rope to draw Jensen's body closer to him. Jeff braced himself, standing still as he used the ropes to slide Jensen up and down his dick, like he was some kind of fuck toy instead of a person.

Each time he drew Jensen close, slapping his ass with his balls, Jensen cried out. Jeff started to move him faster, his own hips chasing the high, the tight smoothness around his cock. As he grew closer to his own orgasm, Jeff gave the order, "Come, now."

Jensen shivered and whimpered beneath him, straining for completion. Just when Jeff thought Jensen wouldn't be able to come on his cock, Jensen moaned and tensed around Jeff, his come spattering on the floor. Jeff let go of the tight rein he had on himself, spilling into Jensen's body.

The applause that started as he pulled out took him by surprise, Jeff had gotten so involved he had nearly forgotten they had an audience. He resisted the urge to take a bow, although he did nod at the queen, who had a little smile on her face at his actions. Jeff retrieved the towel he'd left at his seat and wiped himself down before tucking his cock away.

"Thank you, Commander Morgan," Michelle said. "And Sub Jensen. You've honored us this evening."

He grimaced at hearing his own words come back to him, but Jeff said nothing as she dismissed the court. Jensen needed to be taken care of, and Jeff moved to wipe the come and sweat from his body. "You all right?" he whispered as the other doms gathered their subs and began to leave the Great Hall.

Jensen didn't answer, and Jeff abandoned the towel, moving till he could cup Jensen's face in one hand. "Jensen?"

Jensen's eyes were glazed over, he didn't appear to be seeing Jeff at all, even as Jeff stood in front of him. His face was still flushed pink, and his breath came in tiny little gasps. "Fuck," Jeff murmured, moving to let Jensen down now.

"Easy," Claudia said, she'd come around while the others had left. She took one of Jensen's bound hands in hers. "Squeeze my hand, Sub Jensen."

Jeff kept his fingers on the suspension ropes as they waited, one heartbeat, two, three, and then Claudia smiled as Jensen finally squeezed back. "He's gone deep. Let him down slowly. Misha, do you have the shears?"

She eased the suspension ropes and Jeff caught Jensen before he touched the floor. Misha sliced through the ropes holding Jensen's arms and legs, but Jensen barely noticed, all but flopping into Jeff's arms. Jeff scooped him up carefully, surprised as Jensen tucked his head against Jeff's neck.

"It's best to put him right to bed," Claudia said. "Misha, collect Dom Jeff's equipment."

Jeff started for the lift, aware of Jensen dozing against his skin. "Does this happen often?" he asked Claudia, remembering how Misha had fallen asleep immediately after their shared scene the other day.

Claudia touched the panel on the elevator, calling the lift for Jeff. "Sometimes," she told him. "It's more common among the very best of subs." They waited a moment for Misha to catch up, Jensen's clothing tucked under one arm, and the ropes he had cut looped around the other.

Jensen stirred briefly, nuzzling against Jeff's chin. "Jensen? Are you all right?"

"Sleepy, master," Jensen murmured.

Jeff stiffened, hoping Claudia hadn't noticed. Hearing that word from Jensen's lips sent a warm thrill throughout his body. Jensen had never called him that before, always sticking with 'sir' or 'commander.' Jeff didn't know what it meant now, for Jensen to say that word while he was so clearly under the influence of the scene, practically drunk with the intensity of it all.

Claudia gave them both a fond smile. She and her sub followed Jeff into his quarters, Misha setting his burden on a nearby chair. Claudia helped slice the ropes from Jensen's body before Jeff tucked Jensen under the bedcovers. Jensen snuggled against the pillow like a large puppy, soft snores coming from his lips. Jeff curled his hand around the younger man's cheek for a moment, marveling at the trust shown him.

"They give us such a gift," Claudia murmured, almost to herself. She held out her hand and Misha tucked himself against her chest, where she stroked his hair fondly. "They trust us with their souls. It is not a responsibility to be taken lightly."

"No, it's not," Jeff agreed.

***

Jensen found it difficult to wake up, to leave the soft cocoon of sleep. He was held in soft arms, floating on a sea of bliss, everything perfect and right in the universe. A gentle hand stroked his hair, sending tendrils of pleasure all down his scalp. "I've caught you," a female voice said.

No, that wasn't quite right. Jensen opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight streaming in through the large glass windows. Morning already? But he didn't remember coming to bed last night. No, the last thing he recalled was . . ."Fuck," Jensen muttered, covering his face with both hands.

"Glad to see you up and swearing," Jeff said, his voice amused, but tight. He came in from the sitting room, a tray filled with breakfast in one hand. "Hungry?"

Jensen had to think about it for a moment, but as he sat up, his stomach grumbled and answered the question for him. "You shouldn't be. . ." he started as Jeff placed the tray over his lap.

"Apparently it's my job to take care of you afterwards," Jeff said. He picked up a piece of toast and gestured in Jensen's direction. "And you'll explain what the hell happened last night."

He took the toast and bit into it, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. How could he explain this to Jeff? Jensen wasn't even sure how it had happened, he hadn't gone that deep into sub head space since the Academy. Not even his work with Senator McKellen had had him trancing like that. "It was in the files I gave you on the Mercury," he started, sure he'd included that in the reading material he'd assigned Jeff before they'd even begun a sexual relationship. "We call it sub space."

"It hasn't happened to you before." Jeff sat facing Jensen on the bed, drawing up his legs. Jensen noticed his feet were bare, and felt inexplicably drawn to them, wanting to stroke those toes with his fingers. He refrained.

"It has, just not during any of our scenes together." Jensen swallowed. "I may have a thing for being bound and suspended."

"A thing?" Jeff's eyebrow rose in disbelief.

Jensen rolled his eyes. "You should be flattered, really. It means I trust you enough to fall into a trance state. I didn't expect it." He played with his food, breaking the remnants of toast into tiny crumbs. "I don't let myself fall when I'm on a mission." He'd never screwed up so royally before. "I'm sorry."

Jeff chuckled. "Don't be, I think the little show you put on went a long way towards giving us some credibility. Duchess Claudia at least seemed impressed."

"Jeff," Jensen said, his voice catching on the name. "I don't . . . this doesn't happen to me."

"Am I going to need to watch out for this?" Jeff said.

Damn it, Jensen should have warned him, he'd known better, especially with the way they were getting more and more comfortable in this place. "It won't happen again."

"You can't guarantee that."

No, he couldn't. Jensen ducked his head, frustrated at himself. Of all the stupid, newbie mistakes, he'd broken the number one rule, never take your attention off of your surroundings. Luckily he'd had Jeff there to keep him safe.

"Eat your breakfast. We're still on track." Jeff ran a hand through his hair, making it look even more adorably mussed. "I reported in last night. Our next goal is to try to get the negotiation team allowed in the city. Keep working with the other subs, build up as much goodwill as you can."

Jensen nodded. Right now they had to wait for the queen to make her move, he and Jeff had done their part, now it was her turn.

And they didn't have long to wait.

Shortly after Jensen had showered, still feeling slightly disconnected from his own limbs, the wall in the sitting room started to flash, before melding into the form of a screen. Jeff looked up from where he read one of the slates filled with information Dr. Johnson had gathered and met Jensen's eyes.

"Message for Commander Morgan" appeared on the screen.

Jensen slid to his knees at Jeff's side, going to his proper place as Jeff accepted the message.

"Good morning, Commander Morgan." The queen's face appeared.

Jensen supposed now that they had learned to use the tele, she no longer needed to send any pages their way. He frowned, not sure if they'd ever meet up with little Colin again.

"Good morning," Jeff said in return.

"I look forward to continuing our negotiations. However, the events of the Choosing will be taking up much of my time. This evening, for example, we open the palace for the festival of collars. And tomorrow will be the first of the collaring ceremonies."

"I understand this is a busy time for you," Jeff began, probably about to bring up letting the negotiations team in.

However, the Queen beat him to the punch with something better. "I hope to return your men to your care during the ceremony tomorrow."

Jensen could see the shock on Jeff's face, though he schooled his features quickly. "That is excellent news."

"You've impressed me, Commander Morgan." She nodded in Jensen's direction. "Your sub does you credit. You have learned much from him."

"I have," Jeff said, his eyes meeting Jensen's at her words.

Jensen had to look away.

"I will send you details about the ceremony. I expect Sub Jensen may learn more from his tutors." She smiled and it changed the look of her normally harsh features.

"I will ask them, mistress," Jensen said.

"Good day, Commander." The queen cut the connection.

Jensen found himself grinning as he pulled himself to his feet, filled with a sense of elation. They had done it, they had convinced the queen that Jeff was a damn good master and had freed Johnson and Tappen.

Jeff reached out and grabbed Jensen, pulling him in for a deep kiss. "This is all thanks to you," he murmured between kisses, dark eyes heavy as they looked down at Jensen.

"Not only me," Jensen said, reaching up to catch his fingers in Jeff's hair. He rubbed his cheek against Jeff's, delighting in the feel of stubble, Jeff hadn't shaved today, and Jensen loved the feel of slight abrasion against his skin. "We did it together."

"You," Jeff said, pulling away slightly to just look at Jensen. "You're something else, you know that?"

And then they were kissing again, Jensen couldn't get enough of Jeff's mouth, or the way Jeff's hands felt on his skin, sliding underneath his tunic and undoing the sash. Jensen pulled the fabric out of the way, wanting nothing between him and Jeff.

Somehow they made their way back to the bed, shedding clothing all along the floor. Jeff bounced onto the mattress, laughing as Jensen straddled him and ran his fingers through the sparse hair on his chest. For the first time Jensen got to touch, to explore Jeff's body; he wasn't tied down, or put on display. This was just the two of them.

He liked Jeff's strength, the way he just manhandled Jensen where he wanted him, gripping Jensen around his hips and holding him in place while he prepped him. And then Jensen slid down onto Jeff's cock, so hot and heavy, so perfect inside him, filling him and then some. Jeff fucked into him, bracing himself on his knees, holding tight around Jensen's waist, so tight there would be bruises later.

Jensen didn't care; he just raced towards completion, feeling nothing but Jeff in him and around him. And when Jeff finally slid a hand down to stroke Jensen's neglected dick, he couldn't help himself, he moaned and came into those experienced fingers, without asking or receiving permission first. Jeff choked out his own cry and thrust into him faster and faster until stilling and filling Jensen once more with his semen.

He even liked how it felt, slick and sticky between his legs as Jeff brought them both to lie on the bed, one arm holding Jensen close, back to front. Jensen closed his eyes and just enjoyed the sensation, the warmth between them. It occurred to him as he dozed that he'd just slept with Jeff because he'd wanted to, not to fulfill any role, or to show off for whatever cameras were watching them.

Damn it, Jensen thought, holding tight to the arm around his waist, the last thing he needed was another mission where he got too involved. The whole point of his training was to detach, to let them have his body, but never his heart, never his soul. Someone should have told that to Jeff, he thought, because the man had gotten under his skin like no other.

Jensen couldn't find it within him to regret it, any of it.

***

When Jeff walked into the Great Hall that evening, along with half of the city it seemed, he realized this was what he had been expecting from the moment they had stepped back into the palace on 328. Instead of the brightly lit hall with its luxurious furniture and sedate wall hangings, they walked into a dimly lit den of sex and sin, smoke rising from the floor, with a low level pulsing beat of music.

From one end of the hall to the other spotlights were on raised platforms, each illuminating a different scene, a different set of nude sub and master. Not that the crowds watching wore much more, Jeff felt overdressed in his leather pants and sheer tunic. He wrapped the leash attached to Jensen's collar carefully around his hand, not wanting to lose the other man in the throngs of people.

He caught sight of someone else with a sub on a leash, only attached to the sub's cock instead of his collar. Jeff swallowed, stopping in mid step. Now that was an idea he hadn't considered. He probably wouldn't get a chance to do something like that with Jensen. The queen was already satisfied with Jeff's mastery of his sub, he wouldn't have to perform with Jensen in public again.

Although he wondered if tonight was something of a test instead of a celebration, to see if he'd let his guard down if Jeff had thought they'd already succeeded. The thought deflated his good mood, Jeff became conscious that he might be observed, and so looked around for someone they knew.

Only to see Misha up on stage.

Chains bound him on his hands and knees, a bar holding his legs apart. Behind Misha stretched a line of men, and some women wearing harnesses with dildos attached. Claudia stood at the head of the line, giving each approval before they were allowed to move forward and fuck him.

"She won't let him take anything he can't handle," Jensen said in his ear, well aware of Jeff's gaze. They were pressed close in the sea of bodies, the scent of sweat and sex high in the air, mixed with the smoky incense rising from the floor.

"We're not expected to participate, are we?" Jeff asked.

Jensen licked a strip under Jeff's ear. "Depends on how you define participate. You don't have to get up there and fuck Misha, or get up on a stage at all. Keep walking, don't get distracted by what's on stage."

Jeff took Jensen's advice and wandered further through the crowds, finding on the other side of the stages there were low chairs and couches arranged around tables and smaller scale scenes. The more intimate setting suited Jeff much better. He caught sight of a sub kneeling before her mistress, arms bound behind her back, a small tray attached to the gag around her mouth as she served. Jeff shuddered, getting a brief flash of Jensen in a similar pose, green eyes looking up from under those sooty eyelashes.

He heard Jensen moan behind him, could feel the shudder since they were still so close together. Jeff looked over to see what had Jensen so enraptured. Two subs straddled a bench, bound to the wooden seat by shackles, their arms strapped behind their backs. A chain ran from the cock of the first to the other, so if either of them moved, it tugged harshly on the other. Black leather covered their faces, leaving only their mouths free, and they leaned forward, kissing with desperate open-mouthed moans, unable to get any closer than that.

Jeff wondered what in particular had Jensen so caught up. The bondage? Being bound so close, but unable to do more than kiss? Or being blindfolded, not knowing who the other sub was?

"Can I please you in any way, Commander Morgan?" A soft voice came from behind.

Jeff turned to greet the speaker, a woman with wide blue eyes and straw straight blond hair, dressed in nothing more than a short loincloth. Her collar glowed in the dim hall, as if lit by its own light. "I'm sorry," he said, "You are?"

She smiled, a sideways grin that looked so familiar, but Jeff couldn't place at the moment. "I am Calloway, sub to Queen Michelle. All of my mistress's subs are on offer this evening." She tapped her collar, "Unless the light dims, of course."

"Safeword," Jensen mumbled under his breath, sounding impressed.

"Oh, well, thank you for the offer." Jeff cleared his throat. He tugged on Jensen's leash. "We're well-equipped for the evening."

Calloway smiled again. "I see. You are a very lucky man, Sub Jensen." With that she winked and disappeared back into the crowd.

"I hope I haven't just committed us to some public sex," Jeff groaned.

"Well, what's wrong with a little public sex?" Jensen laughed.

It had been, after all, what they had done last night, save only in a far more intimate setting. Although, with so many people around and so many to watch, Jeff doubted whatever he and Jensen did would be met with more than a few curious onlookers. "I think I need a drink before we try that," he said, tugging Jensen over to an open set of chairs.

"Have you noticed?" Jensen asked as he knelt beside Jeff. "Nothing in this city has an debilitating effect. No alcohol."

"The sex is probably intoxicating enough," Jeff muttered. He wondered if that were true, or if the darker side of 328 had yet to be revealed to them.

"Why Commander Morgan!" Duke Adrian emerged from the crowd, his sub trailing behind on his hands and knees, a slim leather leash attached to his nipple rings. "I didn't expect to find you hidden back here."

Adrian sat across from Jeff, Peter crouching at his feet, head to the floor like some of the religious Jeff had come across on Iman Alpha.

"Yet you're hiding back here?" Jeff tried to make it a teasing jest, though he was aware of the defensiveness hidden just beneath his words.

Adrian waved his hand. "I've seen it all before. But there is truly nothing like the spectacle of the collar festival."

As they spoke one of the queen's subs walked past, leaving a tray with a pitcher and several goblets on the small table. She was gone so quickly Jeff wasn't even sure she was there. He poured himself a glass - relieved to find it pure cool water in the carafe.

"You're right," Jeff agreed. "There is nothing like this."

Adrian's gaze flickered to Jensen, who knelt ramrod straight and perfectly still. If there were a military position for being on one's knees, Jensen had found it. "Is your sub open for use tonight?"

Jeff didn't even have to look at the hand signals Jensen gave him, though he could see the signal for 'no!' out of the corner of his eye. He had no intention of just handing Jensen off to anyone, not when Jeff had no clue about the rules of this evening. "No," he said, taking a sip of his water and leaning back in his chair. "I think it's best we both watch and learn. It served us well before."

Adrian inclined his head, as if agreeing. "I see. Well then, I hope you don't mind if I partake myself." He stood, jerking Peter by the leash and eliciting a gasp from his sub. "You'll find I have no compunctions about sharing."

Jeff hoped that hadn't been a test, and if so, if that counted as a failure or a success. He didn't know if being possessive about a sub was a good trait or not. Misha apparently wasn't typical, although Claudia apparently had her hang-ups as to exactly how he could be used.

Jensen slid between his legs, Jeff's knees bracketing his face, inadvertently giving Jeff exactly what he had fantasized only moments before, gazing up at him with wide eyes. "Shall I?" he asked, licking his lips shiny.

Jeff swallowed and pressed a palm against the bulge in his crotch. Stars, if Jensen wasn't too damn tempting. "Do you think we need to?" he asked with a rasp in his voice.

The grin in return could melt the boots off of a whore. Jensen leaned forward, arms behind his back, and licked up the leather, tracing the line of Jeff's cock in the tight pants. Jeff only felt the slightest bit of sensation, the leather far too thick for anything more, but he had to grip his thighs to keep from thrusting up into Jensen's mouth.

"Want to," Jensen whispered. He took hold of one of the top laces between his teeth and tugged. Jeff didn't know if Harmony's technology extended to the clothing, but the lacings unraveled far more easily than they were supposed to. He wouldn't be surprised if his clothes would simply melt away if he so commanded it.

Out of the corner of his eye Jeff noticed a sub being bent over the couch to the right of them. Another sub dropped to her knees not to far from them. Great, Jeff and Jensen had given the go ahead for the orgy to start. He groaned in dismay, but then in pleasure as Jensen laved his cock, torturing him slowly with his tongue, swirling around the tip like a piece of candy before stroking down the base.

All the while Jensen kept his hands behind his back, and looked up at Jeff with those expressive eyes. Like he had no clue about the people just behind him, inspired into their own acts of sex, twisted together like a warped puzzle - one woman on the couch opposite them, legs spread, a sub between her legs and then another lined up behind him.

Jeff bit down on his fist, trying to hold in his moans, to stop himself from ordering Jensen to suck him down, now. He never expected to get off on watching other people fuck in front of him. This wasn't like scentless holo porn, with its flickering that let you know it wasn't quite real. This was a sea of flesh, writhing together, the musk high in the air.

And then Jensen slid down, his full lips flush with Jeff's flesh, forming a perfect O around his cock. Each inch seemed to take forever, Jensen taking more and more into his mouth, until he kissed Jeff's belly, somehow taking all of him. "Fuck," Jeff finally choked out, letting his hands fall to catch in Jensen's sweat slick hair, just holding on, waiting until Jensen decided to move.

How ironic, that he was beholden to his sub. Jeff could order Jensen to do anything, but it was this choice, the way Jensen controlled the pace that put the other man squarely in charge. And Jeff let him.

He could hear the others groaning and whimpering, the crowd around them had taken over all of the couch space. The hair of one sub thrown over their couch brushed Jeff's thigh, a soft touch to remind him that he wasn't alone, the shared energy echoing in their space, crackling like a power plant as they all worked their way towards orgasm.

And then Jensen started to move and Jeff lost all sense of anyone else, his world narrowed down to those perfect lips, sucking his cock like the most delicious thing in existence. Jeff held on for the ride, his hips tilting with each movement, his hands caught in Jensen's hair. He cried out, surprised as his orgasm took him over with a rush, spilling hard into Jensen's hot mouth.

Jensen pulled back, drops of come slipping past his mouth and dribbling down his chin. He wiped it away with one hand, then paused to lick it off his fingers. Jeff moaned under his breath and gave in to the impulse to grab Jensen and pull him into his lap. Jensen straddled him, cock heavy and hard between his legs.

"For me?" Jeff hissed, "Or them?" he tilted his head towards the others, some crying out in orgasm just as he spoke.

"You," Jensen told him.

Even if he lied, it was a pretty one. Jeff circled Jensen's slippery dick with one hand and brought him off with slow firm strokes. "Come," he ordered, catching all the come in his palm and feeding it back to Jensen, keeping his lips slick and shiny, as they should always be.

Fuck, this place was getting to him.


	9. Chapter 9

Maggie rubbed her eyes tiredly; it felt like she'd been staring at the screen for years now. She'd had to go through each of the personal diaries assigned to her and the monotony of the task had her itching for her laser wrench, to slam through the screen if nothing else. Once she finished this last batch, however, she'd be done, and could get back to playing with the tech on the Raleigh.

A hand on her shoulder drew her attention and Maggie smiled up at Lieutenant Chikezie. "Everything all right, Lieutenant?"

Chikezie smiled tightly, she'd been working around the clock after the explosion, being the first medic on the scene. Luckily there hadn't been anything worse than a broken bone or two, but Chikezie needed to assess everyone. "I thought you might be interested in taking a look at some of the ship schematics I pulled up in my batch. The engineers think they'll be able to fire up the Raleigh soon."

"Excellent. Anything to get me away from the diaries. If I read one more entry complaining about lunch again. . ." Maggie closed out of her current entry, backing out to the list of logs in her batch.

"One moment." Caroline pointed to one of the names on the list - Harmony Ventura. "Isn't Harmony the name of the city?"

"I don't know. I haven't been privy to Commander Morgan's mission reports." Maggie ran the logs. "Wow, she has a long series of diaries. Looks like she came over as a child. . .ah, she's the captain's daughter. That makes sense."

"Have you found anything to indicate why they abandoned the colony?"

"Not yet, but I'll make that a priority." Maggie made a mental note to start from the latest log entries. Just as soon as they got back from looking at the ship schematics, priorities after all.

***

For once, Jeff had decided to just sit back and enjoy the party. The entire city seemed caught up in this festive atmosphere, left over from the all out orgy that had taken place last night. Even now, Jeff found he couldn't look at Misha without seeing flashes of the night before, still seeing the sub chained down and put on offer for anyone who wantedto just take him. He hadn't been the only one, the queen had offered up a selection of her own subs, chained to pillars, locked in cages, or bent over benches. Jeff hadn't gone to the public baths, but he could only imagine what sort of activity had gone on in there.

"This is amazing," Jensen's voice drew Jeff out of his musings.

He turned and had to just take in the sight. Jensen stood with Misha and Peter, and together the three subs looked like some gods out of an ancient tale. In deference to the holiday, Jensen wore a long dark green sarong.  The fabric hung low on his waist, accentuating the sparkling piercing and flowed around his legs like a river. Peter's loincloth left his thighs bare, but teased with its length, as if hiding a treasure. In contrast, Misha's outfit was nothing but leather straps, over his torso, arms, and in a creative pattern over his hips.

With all the flesh on display, Jeff found he couldn't look away from Jensen, how he smiled with the others, his face lighting up with excitement. Those bright eyes drew him in, the green so vibrant and unique compared to all the blue-eyed subs. Jensen stood out in the crowd, and instead of jealousy, Jeff felt a stab of pride. That beautiful man belonged to him, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and no one else.

He didn't think about what would happen when the mission ended. Jeff would enjoy this moment, this first success. Together they had convinced the queen of Jeff's intentions, enough that she was releasing the hostages before completing the base negotiations. Although for that, they had to wait for the end of today, for the portion of the ceremony where Queen Michelle would hand over their ownership.

"It is amazing," Jeff agreed, pleased when Jensen shifted his attention back towards Jeff.

They stood in the Great Hall, once again transformed from the room they had spent their evenings engaging in sedate formal dinners. Today the lighting revealed the true length of the room, larger than Jeff had thought, although with the way the environment here often changed to suit the need, he wouldn't put it past the queen for her to have ordered the room to grow. Banners of different colors fluttered against the tall walls, covered by floating sparkling lights.

The crowd waited on different levels, the higher nobles on floating discs that hovered around the hall. Most spectacular were the screens that flickered to life all around them, showing scenes from the rest of the city, how more people had gathered together to witness this event.  It reminded Jeff of when they redid Times Square in New York City, replacing the old technology with holo-screens.

"Shouldn't you be up there?" Jeff said to Misha. He knew the dukes and duchesses were up on one of the daises floating around the staircase.

Misha grinned at him. "I asked permission to watch with you and Sub Jensen. It is appropriate in my role as tutor."

"So you'll both explain anything we don't understand." Jeff included Peter with an incline of his head.

"Of course."

The lights in the room dimmed and the hum of conversation died down. When the lights came up again, the queen had appeared at the top of the steps.  All down the length of the stairway stood her two hundred subs, from the oldest to the youngest, all collared with their arms bound behind their backs. Seeing them like that made quite an impression. But none could overshadow the figure of Michelle herself.

Her clothing made her seem larger than life, with feathery wings extending from her gown, all in that gleaming mother of pearl color. As she walked, her skirts parted, revealing tall thigh-length boots with impossible heels. Michelle never even looked down, navigating the steps like they were nothing.

When she reached the landing, she turned and held out her hand. Sub Fredric emerged, wearing far more clothing than Jeff had ever seen before, long robes that matched the queen's. Fredric walked to her side and took her hand as he knelt.

"Father's in his role as priest," Peter said in a low tone. "He will bless all the joinings done here today."

Jeff exchanged a quick glance with Jensen, who merely raised his eyebrows. This was the first they'd heard of such a thing. Jensen was right, Jeff thought, not to discount Sub Fredric.

"Welcome," the queen began, her voice echoing across the room, as if picked up by unseen microphones. "Today we begin the most important part of the Choosing. The joining of master and sub is our most sacred rite. Today we celebrate the subs who ask Harmony to Choose for them."

Jeff leaned over. "Ok, what the heck does that mean?"

Peter answered. "Instead of the normal process of courting to make a match, Harmony herself will select a master for these subs. Very few subs offer themselves this way."

"It's only done during the time of the Choosing," Misha put in. "I have heard Harmony makes true matches."

"Not all of them are perfect," Peter put in.

"Not all contracts are perfect, either," Misha shot back.

Jeff watched the two volley back and forth, but didn't interrupt. He noticed Peter begin to flush at Misha's words, and wasn't sure if it was in embarrassment or anger.

"How is that done? Asking Harmony to choose?" Jensen asked, diffusing the tension as he did so often. He had a way of cutting to the heart of the matter, and deflecting that heart if need be.

"Just watch," Misha breathed. "The first candidate is up now."

The sub walked up the length of the stairs and knelt before the queen, who touched her head in benediction. "What is your name, child?"

"Sub Elena," the girl answered, her voice reverberating across the room with the same effect as the Queen's.

"Sub Elena, do you give your freedom to the master Harmony Chooses for you for the next year?"

"I do, Queen Mistress."

"Then take your place."

The girl rose and moved towards a small floating circle. She stepped onto the ring and a pale blue light surrounded her.

"Harmony, we ask you," The queen raised her arms to either side, palms up as she pleaded. "Show us who you have chosen to master Sub Elena."

A smaller screen than the ones that hovered around the room popped into being in front of the queen. The picture flickered, showing the face of a man. All the images on the larger screen shifted, changing to show the location of the girl's new master.

"I am honored," the man said, presumably to a screen of his own.

"Will you take this sub into your household, tether their freedom, and hold to all the promises of Harmony?" the queen asked.

"I will, Mistress," the man said.

"Then travel here by the first tram you see."

Jeff frowned and whispered for Jensen's ears only. "Seems kind of rash."

"I have to agree," Jensen whispered back.

Jeff threw him a smile. "What, no lectures on how I need to understand how these kind of relationships work?"

"I haven't needed to lecture you for days," Jensen said, smiling back.

"Might have learned a few new tricks after all," Jeff murmured, moving back to watch the rest of the candidates walk up the stairway.

For the most part the afternoon went smoothly. There was one incident Jeff took note of, wanting to ask Jensen about it later.

One of the last candidates to ask for Harmony to Choose a master for him was a young sub named Ewan, and the woman Harmony chose stood in the Great Hall, on one of the floating discs near Lady Verona. Jeff noticed their head negotiator right off, so this especially caught his attention.

When the queen asked if the young woman – Lady Natalie – would take Sub Ewan for her own, the woman replied, her eyes wet with tears, that she could not. That had everyone in the room whispering.

"I'm sorry," Natalie said, her voice breaking, the acoustics carrying it across the city. "Ewan has been a sub in my mother's household since he was born. He has long wanted to leave. How can I bind him further to me, no matter how I. . ." She broke off.

Ewan turned towards her, speaking out of turn, but Jeff didn't think anyone minded. "Natalie," he said. "I promised I'd bide by Harmony's Choice."

"I will not have you bound to me against your will." Natalie's voice was steel. "I want you to come to me as your final choice, not as your first master."

"If I may propose a solution," the queen interjected, calling all attention towards her. "I will take Sub Ewan into my household as a trainee. Then at the end of the year, he can come back to the Choosing and honor Harmony's will."

Jeff leaned over once again. "You know, she's good at this negotiating thing."

Jensen snorted. "Then you damn well better be sure to get some extra help."

"I've got you, who else do I need?"

He hadn't intended the words to be anything more than a teasing jest, the kind they'd flung at each other for the past two weeks. But Jensen stiffened and flushed at Jeff's words, not throwing a comment back, like he normally did. Jeff didn't know what to say to fix it.

The ceremony continued, with a break during the middle for food to be served. Afterwards, they took their places again, and the queen began the second half, placing collars on subs to cement contracts. It all seemed like some kind of warped wedding ceremony to Jeff, with collars instead of rings. The collars seemed to be something special, however, placed on a hovering tray. Fredric touched each one before handing the collar to his mistress.

And then the queen made the announcement he had been waiting all day for.

"As you all know, I have spoken of our visitors from the stars." The queen tilted her head in Jeff and Jensen's direction, though how she knew where they were, Jeff had no idea.

Of course, the images in all the screens changed to show him and Jensen. Jensen immediately lowered his gaze and placed his hands behind his back in submission. The queen continued.

"When they first arrived in our city, I saw a leader who did not know how to be a master. I removed the subs of the party, as my right, until his mastery could be proven. I am pleased to say that Commander Morgan has surpassed my expectations."

"Oh thank the stars," Jeff murmured under his breath. Luckily, the voice augmenting system did not pick that up.

"So now I will turn the subs back into his custody." The queen turned, presumably to welcome Tappen and Johnson to the room.

"Mistress," a voice came out of the crowd. "Before you act, I claim prior rights."

The room exploded into whispers and outcries again, and Jeff looked around, seeking the owner of that voice. Luckily the screen nearest them obliged and he was shocked to see Ian, one of the guards who had welcomed them to the city. "What does that mean?" Jeff asked.

Misha and Peter exchanged worried looks. "He claims he had master's rights over one of your subs," Misha explained.

"Speak, Guard Ian," the queen said, unaware of Jeff's panic.

"I helped train the sub known as Major Henry Tappen during his stay here. I believe I now have more of a claim to him than Commander Morgan."

"Do you have evidence to support this, Guard?"

"I await your convenience, Mistress."

And the room exploded.

***

Jensen had never seen Jeff really angry before. He'd seen him pissed off, sure, especially when Jeff had had to confront some assholes on the Mercury who'd given Jensen a hard time. That had led to a rather intense scene afterwards, Jeff pumped up on his rescue of Jensen, and finally willing to give in to the dominant nature Jensen had spent a week trying to coax out of him.

Now though, as they entered the suite housing Tappen and Johnson, Jeff boiled with a quiet rage Jensen had never seen before. Jeff's body thrummed with tension, and instead of shouting, he spoke with a quiet intensity, as if barely able to restrain his anger.

"What the hell is going on, Major?" Jeff asked as the door slid shut behind them. Jensen almost would have preferred a door they could slam, just so the extent of Jeff's anger was understood.

The queen had allowed them this private meeting to sort things out, although she said that that guard, Ian, was entitled to a meeting with Major Tappen as well. Jensen narrowed his eyes, taking in Tappen's frazzled appearance as he paced the room, compared to Dr. Johnson who sat composed at the dining table.

"I have no fucking clue why he said what he said." Tappen ran both hands through his already unruly blond hair.

"Oh no? He must have had some reason to think you'd want to be his sub." Jeff's voice held only a tinge of curiosity in it, but Jensen saw his eyes were cold.

Tappen turned around and made a motion, as if trying to stuff his hands in his pockets, only the Harmony clothing didn't have pockets. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, causing the sleeves to ride up. Jensen caught a glimpse of something on his wrist.

"All right, I slept with him. It's not a crime, I just didn't think. . ."

Jensen darted forward, grabbed Tappen's arm and pulled it away from his chest, revealing the neatly braided leather circling his wrist. "You did more than just sleep with him. You submitted to him." He looked over at Jeff. "It's a courting band, like the kind the princess was making."

Tappen tugged his arm, and when Jensen didn't release it, he reached out with his free hand and pushed Jensen hard. Jensen let go, stumbling backward a few steps.

"Fine. What the fuck ever." Tappen turned away from all of them, leaning against the opposite wall with both hands.

"Of all the stupid, bone-headed things to do, Major," Jeff hissed. "You're in over your head."

Jensen shook his head, trying to think. "You must have impressed him, if he's willing to threaten our good will to have you."

Tappen snorted. "Impressed him? Figures you'd be about how well someone fucks."

"Have you learned a damn thing about these people?" Jensen gestured. "You've been here for how long and you still distain their way of life?"

"With all due respect," Johnson interjected. "He's not the anthropologist here. And I had a lot to learn myself."

Jensen didn't respond, not wanting to lose his cool. He knew Johnson was only trying to assuage the situation, to take the pressure off of Tappen for fucking up. But still, was it too much to ask for a little respect?

"We need to figure a way to get you out of this," Jeff said. "He's going to show off that bracelet as evidence for his claim."

Tappen pushed himself away from the wall and attempted to undo the bracelet, cursing under his breath when it would not come off. Jensen wondered if it was another bit of technology, disguised as nothing more than scraps of leather. They were no closer to finding out how things worked here.

"Major," he said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. "How long do you have left on your tour of duty?"

Tappen looked up from the wristlet. "What the hell does that matter?"

"Just answer the goddamn question, Major. Any more lip towards Lieutenant Ackles and I'll write you up for insubordination."

"Two years," Tappen answered, not looking in Jensen's direction once.

So, Jensen ignored him, looking over towards Jeff. "You know how important contracts are here. Tell the queen the major has a prior commitment to the military, a contract that can't be broken."

Jeff's eyes widened. "That could do the trick. He just might have saved your ass, Major."

Tappen crossed his arms over his chest, not likely to end up thanking Jensen any time soon.

"Unless maybe he wanted it on the line," Jensen said, watching as Tappen's eyes flickered over to him, widening in surprise. He wondered about Tappen's encounter with the guard, something must have happened between the two of them for Ian to even consider Tappen wanting to stay behind. How deep did they go?

"What's that supposed to mean, Scut?" Tappen snapped.

"Means we're not that different at all." Jensen flashed him a charming smile, calculated to piss the other man off. "You just happen to be giving it away for free."

"Enough, both of you," Jeff cut in. "This is the plan, Major. You go in to that private meeting with Guard Ian and you tell him you're contracted with the military. And give back the damned bracelet if you can. We don't want any more misunderstandings."

Tappen fingered the leather at his wrist at Jeff's words, but then he snapped to attention and barked out, "Yes, sir."

"What about me?" Johnson asked suddenly. "Did the queen say I had to stay too?"

"She never got that far." Jeff sighed; the anger seemed to have drained out of him a bit. "Let's see how this meeting goes, then ask her if you can go back to base camp at least."

"They might try to use that against us," Tappen said, frowning. "Trade Karl for me."

Jeff shook his head. "We'll deal with that when we have to. Now, are there any other surprises I need to look forward to? Anyone else you slept with, Major?"

"No, sir," Tappen replied, subdued.

"Keep it that way." Jeff turned to go, and Jensen followed at his heels.

"By the way, lieutenant, nice skirt." Tappen shot his way.

"Glad you like it, you might be wearing one yourself soon." Jensen said as the door shimmered closed, leaving him with the last word.

"You know," Jeff said as they walked past the guards. "A more suspicious man might think you enjoyed trading barbs with Major Tappen."

Jensen shrugged. At first Tappen had gotten his goat, yeah, just another Corps prick who thought he knew what Jensen was about. There had to be something more to the man, something this Ian had seen. Jensen wasn't kidding when he told Tappen the two of them were more similar than not.

"I'll try not to enjoy myself so much, sir," Jensen said, breaking character for a moment, not quite ready to be Sub Jensen just yet.

Jeff snorted at his tone, but then he sobered quickly. "I'm going to have to comm the captain and tell her about this."

Jensen didn't envy him the job at all.

***

When they got back to their quarters, Jensen stripped off the sarong, padding naked over to the laundry shoot. Jeff sank into the comfortable arm chair in the bedroom, trying not to watch, but Jensen didn't make it easy, straightening only to stretch his back, the muscles of his shoulder rippling with the motion. The younger man was truly beautiful, from the smoothness of his skin, to the curve of his buttocks, where Jeff itched to touch.

Of course, Jensen had to be physically perfect, it was part of his job description. Annoyed with that line of thought, Jeff pulled out his comm and put in the code for the ship. When the captain picked up the line, he told her Jensen was also listening.

"We have a bit of a situation," Jeff said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. He didn't know what the hell Tappen was thinking, sleeping with one of his guards while in a hostage situation. Of course, knowing the major, he might have tried it to attempt an escape.

But he hadn't just slept with Guard Ian, he's submitted to him, as Jensen had pointed out. Jeff wondered if there was something about this place, if it pumped some crazy gas into the air to make all blue-eyed individuals submissive, whether they wanted it or not.

"What kind of situation?" Captain Devine seemed just as tired as he was, probably sick of the entire thing.

"Major Tappen was intimate with one of the guards here. Now the guard wants to claim him as a sub."

Jensen put a cup of water on the end table, just at Jeff's elbow. He took a sip and gave Jensen a grateful nod. Jeff didn't expect the other man to kneel at his feet, still nude, and begin to massage his calves.

"Any other good news you have to tell me, Commander?"

Jeff let out a shaky laugh. "We're working on the situation. Ackles has an idea that might work, but we won't know till after Major Tappen has met with the queen. I'll keep you updated."

"See that you do. Any word on negotiations?"

"Stalled for the moment. I hope to return to it after we get Major Tappen back."

The comm crackled, the connection to the ship still not as strong as it should be. "Do what you have to, Commander. We need that base."

"Yes, sir. Morgan out."

He closed his eyes, enjoying Jensen's hands on his legs, rubbing out the tenseness in his muscles. Then Jensen slid between Jeff's thighs, his fingers making quick work of the lacings of his trousers. Jeff sat up and grabbed Jensen's wrists stopping the action.

He couldn't stop thinking about what Jensen had said to Major Tappen: "You just happen to be giving it away for free." Jeff, stupidly, had almost forgotten that this was Jensen's job, he was paid to be here, servicing Jeff for the greater good.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

Jensen blinked up at him, his large eyes confused, the black liner on his lids making them look larger than normal. "Some stress relief," he said with a lewd smile. With his hands caught by Jeff, he just leaned forward, nuzzling his face against Jeff's cock.

"Jensen, stop." Jeff pushed him away. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to," Jensen said.

"We've already proved ourselves to the queen." Jeff let go of Jensen's wrists, aware that Jensen couldn't move if Jeff kept him captive. "You don't have to, you know, keep this up."

Jensen backed up, falling on his ass from his position on his knees. Jeff wondered at the sudden lack of grace in the normally smooth and suave movements Jensen often displayed. "I don't understand." Jensen pushed himself to his feet, the expression on his face unreadable. "Don't you want me to?"

"No," Jeff lied. How could he explain his sudden attack of conscience? Jeff had been just fine with using Jensen since they arrived on 328, hell, he'd enjoyed it. But after their discussion with Tappen, Jeff just couldn't forget it, that Jensen only allowed himself to be tied down and fucked because of the mission. "I know we had to," he made a crude hand gesture. "For the mission, but. . ."

Jensen snatched a cream-colored robe from the wardrobe, not looking at Jeff as he tied it around himself, covering his nudity for the first time in days. "What the fuck was yesterday then? When you and I. . .we didn't have to then, either."

"It was a mistake," Jeff said.

Jensen laughed, and it was an ugly, dark sound. "You're absolutely right," he snapped. "It was one fucking hell of a mistake." He walked away, towards the inner hallway.

"Where are you going?"

He stopped long enough to shoot back. "I'll be in the playroom, if that's all right, master?" The way Jensen said the word was like razor blades cutting down Jeff's spine.

"Don't stay up too late," Jeff said, some perverse need to push back. "We'll need to be fresh tomorrow to deal with whatever the queen's come up with."

"Yes, sir," Jensen ground out, and then he was gone.

Jeff let his head fall into his hands and wondered if he hadn't just fucked up even more. He respected Jensen as a fellow soldier, hell the man was smart, innovative, and knew when to obey orders. But no man should be forced to use his body like that; no Corpsman should have to whore for the UP.

"You just happen to be giving it away for free." Jensen's words, going around and around in his mind.

Jeff picked up the slate he had been using to take notes for the negotiations with the queen. Maybe if he focused on work, he could get Jensen's voice out of his head.

***

Jensen wiped down the playroom equipment for what seemed like the fifth time, comforted by the smooth motions of the rag over the rich dark wood of the St. Andrew's Cross. They hadn't even made use of it; in fact it had been pushed to the corner when they'd scened with Misha and his mistress, to make room for the chair Jensen had been bound to.

He remembered how it had felt to be tied to the object, the vibrator deep inside him, driving him mad every time Jeff had run his fingers over the alien device. Jensen had been open then, given so much of himself. Anything Jeff had asked of him, he'd done, gladly.

"So stupid," he murmured, running a forearm across his forehead. Jensen damn well knew better. He'd learned from experience not to fall for his targets, that black mark still on his record for letting Danneel live. Jeff wasn't exactly a target, however; he was Corps, just like Jensen, though from a different branch.

And Jeff was something else. He was strong, his body well honed, a man used to years of war. And yet, he was gentle, his large hands so careful with Jensen, whether stroking his skin or tying ropes in intricate knots. When Jeff smiled, Jensen melted, captivated by that grin. If it wasn't the smile that got him, it would have to be that deep voice, and when he barked out orders Jensen hardened, always ready to obey. But Jensen hadn't just fallen for a handsome man; he admired a man who could lead as Jeff had. Even when he was out of his dept, Jeff moved forward, confident and sure.

Jensen folded the rag carefully, taking comfort in the precise motion. He didn't think he'd been the only one caught up in the whirlwind here, Jensen had honestly thought Jeff had felt something too. For years he'd been suppressing any link of emotions to sex, letting his body be used without engaging his heart, and Jensen didn't know what had fucked up his carefully constructed walls.

He could blame this place, Harmony with its order, where subs knew their station, but could look forward to a lifetime of being taken care of. In his darkest fantasies he'd dreamt of something like this, belonging to someone worthy of his submission, being able to give himself like a gift, instead of a weapon. But Harmony wasn't his home, hell it wasn't even his reality. This city was nothing more than a fantasy, a ride he'd be on for a short time before being catapulted back into the heart of the war. Time to wise up, Ackles, he thought angrily.

"Jensen?"

Jeff's voice interrupted his thoughts. Jensen nodded to himself, his resolve cemented. "Yes, sir?"

"What are you doing?"

"Upkeep of the room, sir." He finally turned to face Jeff, who stood in the doorway wearing his sleep pants, and that was almost torture. Push it away, he thought firmly.

"Come to bed."

He bit his tongue, wanting to snap out "oh, so you still want me to sleep with you, then?" but unless Jensen slept on the floor, he'd have to share Jeff's bed. He remembered how he'd asked, very formally, that first night, to be able to share his master's bed, just in case they had rules about that kind of thing here. Jeff had given permission, of course, back then still slightly shaky with his authority.

"Yes, sir." Jensen followed his superior officer back to the bedroom, letting the robe slip from his shoulders before sliding under the covers. This was just a mission, he reminded himself, his body would be up for grabs, but nothing else. Never again.

"Sleep well, Jensen."

"Yes, sir," he responded, as if that was something he could control.

As soon as he closed his eyes, though, Jensen fell, the exhaustion of the long day catching up with him. So he was aware, as he looked around a field filled with wildflowers and tall green grasses, that he was dreaming.

"Hello, Jensen." It was that female voice, the one that had been calling him for nights now.

He still couldn't quite see her, but Jensen got the impression of long tangled curls of reddish gold hair. And, of course, wide blue eyes. "Hello," he said.

"I've been trying to speak to you for a while."

"I'm sorry," because that's what you did in dreams, apologized for things you couldn't control. "Who are you?"

She smiled, and that he caught because it was brilliant. "Harmony."

"Like the city," he said, apparently still sleepy even in a dream. Jensen couldn't quite penetrate the fog of his mind.

Harmony touched his cheek; her skin was like a cloud. "Exactly."

"I don't understand."

"I know."

Jensen looked around, and the field around him began to shimmer and fade, like one of the doors in the city. He found himself in a room, in the palace, one of the sitting rooms, filled with exquisite furniture and bright, bold fabrics. Seated on one of the couches, head down, hands clasped together, was Major Tappen.

With the logic of dreams Jensen knew Tappen couldn't see him, so he stepped back towards the wall and just watched when Ian entered the room.

"Henry," Ian said, stopping just short of going to Tappen's side.

"Why?" Tappen asked, looking up. "After you told me goodbye at the Schola?"

Ian shook his head. "I couldn't let you go."

Tappen snorted, catching his fingers in his tangled hair. "You have to."

"Do you really want me to?"

"It doesn't matter what I want," Tappen said. "I can't stay here, Ian. I don't own my time. I'm a soldier. The UP owns me for the next two years."

Ian finally moved, dropping to sit next to Tappen on the couch. He touched Tappen's chin, forcing the other man's face up. "You have a queen of your own to answer to?"

"More like an admiral, but yeah, sort of like that."

With his other hand, Ian traced the curve of Tappen's face. When Tappen closed his eyes, he whispered, "I'll still fight for you."

Tappen made a noise in the back of his throat, and Ian moved forward to kiss him. Jensen turned away, knowing this was something he shouldn't be witnessing. His chest hurt, and he rubbed it, hating how seeing that kiss made him feel.

"Why did you show me that?" he asked Harmony. In the way of dreams, he stood back in the meadow, where she regarded him sadly.

"So you understand. Some people find love who seem completely unsuited for one another. I try to give everyone this gift."

"What gift?" Jensen snapped.

She opened her mouth to answer, and of course, Jensen opened his eyes and sat up with a start, sunlight streaming in through the windows. Damn it, he thought, rubbing his eyes. What the hell was that?


	10. Chapter 10

"You're finally awake," Jeff said, walking out from his shower. Jensen looked up at him out of a pale face with dark rings around his eyes. They'd gotten to bed late, but not that late. "Weird dreams again?"

Jensen pushed the covers down and reached for the robe he had discarded last night. "I'm sorry, sir, I'll get breakfast."

If Jeff could kick himself any harder for last night, he would. Jensen had pulled back, and the easy partnership they'd shared had crumbled. "Jensen," he began, not knowing what to say.

For a moment, he felt angry, why should he apologize? Jensen had been the one to insist from the beginning that this was all for the mission. And now Jensen pulled away, as if Jeff's reminder could do anything to have changed that truth. Jeff wished he could know what was going on in the other man's head, but until the telepathy that controlled technology here allowed that, Jeff would just have to guess.

Jensen looked at him expectantly. Jeff swallowed his original words. "We're not scheduled to meet with the queen till this afternoon. She sent it on the tele." He pointed to the wall. "But we're invited to a picnic with her court and their subs for brunch. You up for it?"

"Yes, sir."

Jeff wished he'd say anything but those two words.

When they arrived at the gardens, the others were already there, gathered around a table filled with all kinds of food, streamers and lanterns decorating the edges. Jensen walked a few steps behind Jeff, dressed in a pair of pale leggings and a leather harness to match, a mix of demur and erotic, the combination had Jeff hard from when they left their quarters. Only now he'd taken away his own permission to touch. He wondered if Jensen had done that on purpose, since Jeff hadn't chosen the clothes beforehand.

"Commander Morgan," Claudia greeted him with a smile. She had dressed simply, no leather corsets, just a simple sundress. Jeff felt better about his own nondescript outfit of shirt and trousers. "Good day! I'm glad you came, for a moment I thought you might be caught up with ah, elements beyond your control."

"I'm afraid that will take us away later this afternoon." He surveyed the abundance of food.

"Ah," she said. "That was most intriguing, yesterday."

Jeff gave her a smile. "If you want to ask me about it, go ahead."

Claudia poked his arm playfully. "You know that's not the way we do things here."

Oh, Jeff knew exactly how they did things on 328. "Jensen," he said, "Why don't you go find Misha? I'm sure there is plenty he needs to tutor you on."

"Yes, sir," Jensen said again, not looking up as he moved into the crowd, over to where the other subs were gathering.

Claudia frowned as he left. "Do you not wish to speak in front of him? Is he attached to your Sub Tappen?"

Jeff winced. "Major Tappen isn't a sub where we come from. You told me he was being trained, would you tell me what that entailed? Why would Guard Ian have made a claim for him like that?"

She propelled him over towards the food, away from the other members of the court, who gathered on the benches, their plates already full. "I'm not sure what they accomplished in so short a time. Real training takes years," Claudia spoke in a low tone. "I do know that Guard Ian asked permission to court your Major Tappen. The queen allowed it, hoping to learn more about your purpose here."

"Did Major Tappen know this?" Jeff asked, an empty plate in his hand.

"I don't know." She started piling pastries onto Jeff's plate, probably disconcerted by his lack of movement.

"How likely is the queen to grant his request?" Because Jeff needed to know. Hopefully Jensen's idea would work, but he had to prepare them all for the worst.

"It depends on the strength of his evidence. And of course, what your Major Tappen wishes."

Jeff relaxed. "She'll ask him?"

"Michelle is not one to discount the wishes of a sub," Claudia said softly, her words implying strongly that there were those who did do such a thing.

He frowned to himself as he followed Claudia over to the benches, taking the free seat near Duke Adrian, his sub Peter on his knees, arms folded behind his back.

"Good Day, Commander Morgan," Adrian said with a tilt of his head.

As Jeff responded, Jensen left Misha's side to kneel at Jeff's feet, posture straight, hands posed delicately on his thighs, almost like a living statue. Jeff wondered at it, when he realized Jensen hadn't eaten this morning, and could only eat what Jeff gave to him. Despite the sudden coldness between them, Jeff couldn't forget such a basic thing. He held out one of the pastries for Jensen before he took a bite of his own, allowing Jensen to lean forward and take the food between his lips. Jeff swallowed, his fingers tingling where they touched Jensen.

Duchess Rachel, who sat across from them, leaned forward in her bench, though keeping her sub in the curl of one arm. "I'm afraid, Commander Morgan, that this year's Choosing was far more exciting than normal. What with Lady Natalie refusing her charge and of course, your own difficulties."

Well, at least Jeff had someone else to talk about. "Is it so unusual for someone to refuse like that?"

"Oh yes," Rachel said. "Being Chosen by Harmony is one of the highest honors."

Adrian snorted. "Things like that wouldn't happen if certain subs weren't spoiled. Lady Natalie would only indulge him if she did become his mistress."

"How do you define spoiled, Duke Adrian?" Rachel asked, but her voice was cold.

His lips curled in a tight smile. "Lack of discipline for one. Punishment needs to be swift and frequent."

"Without cause?" Rachel snapped.

"My dear, there is always cause. The point is to maintain control. Especially in our roles. It is not easy to keep order among 212 subs." Almost absently, Adrian stroked one finger along Peter's earlobe. Peter did not move an inch. "Due diligence must always be maintained.  It is a sloppy dom who has spoiled subs, who dare to speak against him."

"I'm not sure I agree with your concept of spoiled," Rachel said.

Claudia cleared her throat, loudly. "I don't mean to interrupt, but would any of your subs like to join Misha for his walk?"

Jeff nodded at Jensen, who drew himself to his feet and followed as Misha led the way deeper into the gardens. Adrian gave Peter the same permission, and he too followed. Rachel stubbornly held on to her sub, as if unwilling to continue the discussion without her, while Duke Leonard sent his back into the palace to fetch something.

Claudia met his gaze, and she shook her head slightly, which Jeff didn't quite know how to take. She'd gotten rid of the subs for a reason, and it had to have more than just the topic of conversation.

"Your sub is exquisite, Commander," Adrian said to him. Jeff thought it was for a change of subject, but then he went on. "I'm curious as to your thoughts on discipline, since your ways are so different from ours."

Jeff coughed to give himself time to think of a way to respond. If only Jensen had stayed, he could use him as a way to gauge his response - if they had been functioning at the same level as yesterday. He decided to fall back on what he knew.

"I think discipline is more than just standards and rules. And yes, more than just punishment." Jeff thought back to his experiences in the service, to the leaders who maintained discipline and those that hadn't. "I think respect is key."

"Exactly," Adrian said and Jeff was surprised to be agreed with. "Respect must be commanded."

Rachel stepped in. "I thought respect needed to be earned."

Adrian shook his head. "You put the onus on the wrong party. By virtue of what we are, all subs should respect us."

"So you don't think there could be a dom who doesn't deserve respect."

"Of course not, that's not what I'm saying. Any dom who lets his subs run roughshod over him does not deserve any respect whatsoever. It is our responsibility to keep order, to ensure all subs know their place." Adrian answered Rachel's challenge. Jeff found himself watching the volley, wondering how to get out of this discussion.

"I think," Leonard put in, joining the conversation for the first time, "where you and Rachel differ is the extent of the sub behavior you are willing to put up with."

"It shouldn't be a personal decision," Adrian put in. "Sub behavior should be codified. Lawbreakers should be punished accordingly. I've had enough of spoiled subs who barely know how to behave in public."

"It's a good thing you aren't making the laws, then," Rachel said coldly.

Jeff stood up and took his plate back to the table, piling it full with food. He really did not want to get involved in this. Especially when he heard Adrian expounding further on his point.

"They are unable to reason for themselves. That is why they have masters. . ."

Jeff hoped Jensen was having a better time of it.

***

Misha led them to a terrace that looked over the city, instead of the ocean. There were baskets of fresh fruit along the stone wall that ringed the perimeter, so he must have had this planned. Jensen hung back a bit, not in the mood to banter as usual, although Misha was more than capable of holding a conversation by himself.

Peter curled up on the wall, drawing up his knees and looking out into the distance. While Misha went straight for the fruit, Jensen slid to the ground, sitting with his back against the wall, facing the carefully formed garden. Who cared for it, he wondered, this massive wild thing that grew along one side of the palace?

"You're quiet, Sub Jensen," Peter said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Call me Jensen, please."

"It's Peter then."

Misha pulled a cherry pit out of his mouth, his lips stained red with the juice. "Did you quarrel with your master? You seem out of sorts."

"It wasn't a quarrel," Jensen protested. "It's just, he said. Damn." He couldn't explain what had happened with Jeff, not without giving away how they'd been partnered together simply for this mission.

"Did he punish you?" Peter asked.

"What? No! No." Jensen shook his head.

Misha sat next to him, offering the basket of cherries. Why the hell not? Jensen took one and popped it into his mouth.

"Maybe he should," Misha said, causing both Jensen and Peter to stare at him in shock. "You're all mixed up because he hasn't."

Peter reached down to pluck one of the cherries from their grasp. "I'd never thought I'd hear you say such a thing."

Misha blew out a frustrated breath. "Why not? You think I don't need it?"

"I don't know if punishment is ever needed," Peter said.

"You don't crave it, sometimes?" Misha's gaze seemed very far away as he spoke. "To be made into nothing? To give your body over to your mistress? To bear the marks with pride?"

Peter hopped off of the wall and started off, towards the small fountain in the center of the terrace. "No," he said, but didn't go any further.

Jensen wondered if that's what he needed, to give himself to Jeff as a reminder that it was the older man's authority that ruled here. Jensen's wants and wishes were irrelevant. Above all, he had the mission to think of, and if punishment restored his clarity, well, then he'd ask for it. "Maybe you're right," he told Misha.

"I have my moments." Misha grinned at him and Jensen had to laugh, throwing one of his cherry pits in his direction.

They wandered over to the fountain, washing the berry stains from their faces and hands with the cold water. Peter joined them, splashing water at Misha who retaliated with twisting one of the jets on the side of the fountain to point towards Peter, soaking him.

"Not sporting." Peter laughed, shaking droplets off of his hair. "Now I have to dry off."

"The weather is fine for it." Jensen squinted into the bright sunshine. "Does it never rain here?"

"Never during the Choosing," Misha said.

That reminded Jensen of something. He had seen many collars being given out yesterday, all in a variety of colors. The most memorable was an older pair, a couple wrinkled and gray, who had been together for years. Yesterday the dom gave that sub the golden collar, the lifetime promise, as the queen called it. More than a few in the crowd had gotten emotional over that. But Jensen hadn't seen any red collars given out.

"Misha," he said. "I meant to ask you something, please tell me if this is out of place."

Misha flashed him one of his huge grins. "You haven't stepped over the line so far."

There was always the first time for that. "I didn't see any red collars given out yesterday. And you never said the length of your contract."

Misha touched his own collar, the expression on his face shifting to thoughtful. "Red collars are given out when training for the red is completed, not when a contract is sealed."

"Red bands aren't like anyone else," Peter said. "Their contracts can be broken at any time."

"Or begun at any time," Misha put in.

Jensen's jaw dropped. "Oh, that's why when Johnson said what he did, the threat was real."

"I will not be taken from my mistress," Misha said softly. He climbed up on the ledge of the fountain, ducking his head under the spray.

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. "She hasn't offered to exchange the red?"

"She respects it too much," Misha surfaced long enough to say.

Sometimes Jensen felt that if he stayed here for a hundred years, he would still not understand these people or their ways. He climbed up next to Misha on the slippery fountain ledge and put his hand on the other sub's shoulder. In the short time he'd gotten to know him, Jensen considered Misha a friend. "If you want it, you should ask for it."

"Sound advice." Misha splashed him. "Perhaps you should take it."

Jensen shook his head. He moved to jump from the ledge, it was a small distance from the ground after all, and he'd completed far more dexterous feats. However, just as he jumped, one of his sandals slid against the wet rock, and he fell backwards, catching his arm on the stone fountain before landing hard.

"Jensen!"

He didn't know why Peter sounded so panicked, it was only a fall. Jensen was perfectly all right. Then he tried to push himself up and saw the bone sticking out of his arm. That might be a problem.

***

"Don't look Jensen, it helps if you don't look." Peter kept his palm on Jensen's cheek as he spoke, forcing Jensen to look away from his injury. He was a little too late, Jensen had already seen it, the mess of bone and blood. Who knew a simple fall could cause such a bad break?

Misha had run to get Jeff, after summoning the healers by calling up a tele screen out of nowhere. Jensen decided he needed to learn that trick, after they reset his arm.

"I'll be fine," he said, certain of that until he made the mistake of trying to stand. Then the pain he hadn't felt at the fall flared up through his arm. "Oh." Jensen sat back down with a thump, black specs surrounding his vision.

"Jensen!" That was Jeff's voice.

"Easy, let me see." A female voice said, gentle fingers touching his arm.

Jensen's eyes flickered open long enough to recognize Healer Nicci. "Ow."

"I know. Here, this will take away the pain."

He didn't feel a pinprick over the constant ache of his arm, but as soon as she spoke, the pain faded away. And then everything else got a bit fuzzy, almost as if he had fallen back into sub space. Jensen didn't care that Nicci took his arm, manipulating it somehow, into some sort of brace.

When Jeff knelt at his side, his dark eyes all full of concern, Jensen giggled. "You're here!" he said, reaching out with his good arm to run his fingers over the stubble on Jeff's chin. "Mmmm."

"What the heck did you give him?" Jeff said.

"Pain suppressor. It's a common reaction. Bring the stretcher. . ."

"No," Jeff said. "Let me."

Jensen was vaguely aware of the healer protesting as Jeff scooped him up into his arms. It impressed him that Jeff could do that, Jensen couldn't be called short by any stretch of imagination. "You're strong," he sang, pressing his nose against Jeff's neck, breathing in deeply of Jeff's scent. Jensen thought he could pick Jeff out of a room of men, just by smell.

"And you're so high." Jeff laughed, the rumble of his chest feeling good against Jensen's body.

"Are you going to punish me?" Jensen asked, closing his eyes because once Jeff started to walk back to the palace he grew a bit dizzy.

"What? No, Jensen."

"Why not?" he demanded. "Somethin' wrong with me?"

"Not when you're hurt," Jeff said.

Oh, that made sense. "Maybe when I'm better, then. Please?"

"Whatever you want."

He vaguely felt it when Jeff set him down on something soft. It felt nice, though he missed the feeling of Jeff on his cheek.

"Let the healer take care of you," Jeff told him. Jensen had to listen to Jeff. Besides, he was so comfy in the bed, it seemed like a good time to close his eyes and take a nap. So Jensen did.

"Do you love your master, Jensen?"

Jensen knew Peter was there, although he wasn't sure where Jeff or the healer had gone. He didn't know what the right answer was, although Jensen frowned and tried to think about it really hard. Did he love Jeff? "Yes," he told Peter.

Peter made a strangled sound at the back of his throat. "That must be magnificent. Did he train you?"

"No. Went to the Academy. Military," he clarified. "Like the guards." Because he didn't think they had a military here. No wars, no Confed. So peaceful.

"Like the guards," Peter repeated.

"Why are you asking me questions?" Jensen protested, wanting to sink back into sleep. "Want to go back to sleep."

Peter touched him, his palm on Jensen's head, but he barely felt it, the drugs still coursing through his system. "Sleep then." And Jensen did.


	11. Chapter 11

"Have you been reading this?" Lieutenant Chikezie held out her tablet.

Maggie pulled off her goggles, curious about whatever it was that Chikezie found so important that she had interrupted Maggie's work on comparing the engine room circuits to the ones displayed in the ship schematics.  "Reading what?"

"The diary we found. Harmony Ventura."

She shook her head. "I haven't had time."

Chikezie frowned and looked around. She seemed frustrated by the other techs in the engine room, all working off of carefully copied schematics. "Have you had lunch yet?"

What the hell was in that diary? Maggie felt torn between her devotion to her work and finding out exactly what had the normally unflappable Chikezie so concerned. "You know, I think I'm due for a lunch break."

"In fact Corporal, I think it's essential you take a lunch break." Chikezie nodded solemnly, though her dark eyes sparkled. "Let's go."

She waited until they'd cleared the ship before beginning to speak. "I started at the beginning at first, which was a mistake. Nothing is as self-absorbed as a teenage girl's diary."

Maggie smirked, remembering her own scrawlings at that age. Although, growing up on war-torn Sienna, she hardly resembled the typical thirteen-year-old girl.

"And then I skipped to the end, thinking perhaps I'd get a clue as to why they abandoned the colony and how they found the city."

"And? Did you?" Maggie asked, heart beating with excitement.

"Well, maybe yes, maybe no." Chikezie shook her head.

"That doesn't sound certain."

"I had to backtrack to when she first met Matteo. Otherwise it didn't make much sense."

Maggie shook her head. "Who's Matteo?"

Chikezie handed over the tablet. "He was her dom."

"As in?" Maggie grabbed the tablet and stopped in mid-step.

"As in exactly the same dom/sub arrangement in the city, yes!"

She had left the diary up on the tablet's screen and Maggie started to read the first entry, her curiosity more than piqued.

_Matteo used the crop on me today. I told him I wanted something heavier than the flogger, but I didn't feel ready for the whip._

_We began like we did every session – with the collar. I'd stripped and knelt before him, waiting for him to lock it around my throat. Sometimes I wish I could wear it all the time, let everyone know who I belong to. But I can't give father another reason to hate Matteo._

_If he knew what we did together, he'd never understand. One time I think father saw the bruises on my wrist – Matteo had tied the ropes too tight only the once, but I didn't mind. I liked how all I needed to do was press on the mark and I'd remember everything he'd done to me that night. _

_The crop left such wonderful bruises. _

_He bound me to the bed with strips of leather he'd gotten from last month's shipment. I wonder if anyone ever gives his purchases a second glance sometimes. I picture the inventory crew, checking off items on a list: "dildo? Check! Nipple clamps? Check!"_

_Matteo says I need to learn to focus. I've lost the thread again._

Maggie felt sweat trickle down her back, the temperature having gone up a few degrees. "Is it all like that?"

"For the most part. After she met Matteo that is."

"What happened to them?" Maggie began to page through the entries.

"The wormhole collapsed, and the shipments stopped coming. And then he died."

"What?" Maggie looked up in shock. "How?" she had a sudden vivid image of Harmony's father taking a laser rifle to the man beating his daughter.

"A bad winter. The food started to run out. The last entry is where she writes of his death."

Maggie shook her head. "The link between Harmony and the city seems obvious. But how did they go from here to there?"

"I have to leave something for you to figure out Corporal."  
***

When Jeff entered the conference room for his meeting with the queen, he was very conscious of the lack of Jensen at this side. For the first time he would have to go it alone on 328, and he found he missed the other man's insight. He worried how this meeting would go without Jensen to nudge him in the right direction.

"Commander," the queen greeted him. She sat at the opposite end of the round table, Sub Fredric at her feet.

He bowed. "I'm sorry I'm late. I had to leave Jensen at the infirmary, er, or whatever you call where your healers are."

She looked up from the slate she had been perusing when he walked in. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine." Jeff rushed to reassure her. Otherwise, it would look very bad for a dutiful master to leave his sub alone. "Broke his arm falling off the ledge of a fountain in the gardens. He just had a rather interesting reaction to the pain medication the healer gave him."

"Ah." She smiled. "Yes, it does that to some subs. I've seen it used in other ways of course."

Jeff didn't even want to explore that thought. However, the thought of sleepy, snuggly Jensen had a blush rising to his cheeks. Why the hell did Jensen want to be punished? Was it some sort of reaction to what Adrian had said before Claudia had dismissed the subs? It was more than just liking how it felt to be flogged, he thought, Jensen hadn't asked for that. He'd asked for punishment, specifically.

"I'll see if he can be released after our meeting. I think it's best if he sleeps it off." Jeff took his seat, placing his slate on the wide round table.

The door shimmered open and Lady Verona entered. She nodded at Jeff before taking a seat of her own at the table.

Jeff cleared his throat. "I would like to ask again that my experts be allowed to attend these meetings."

"You may send them the text of the contract for review," Verona noted.

"I don't know if your technology will talk to our technology," Jeff protested.

"It will," the queen said, as if her words could make it so by decree. "If it doesn't, I will have one of my guards deliver a slate outside of the city."

Jeff didn't know they left the city, the way everything was closed up here. The city was filled with walls and towers, and barriers. "I see," he said, not wanting to press the point, especially with Jensen back in the infirmary, and Jeff trying to maneuver his way alone.

"I know there are many points to discuss," the queen began.

That was an understatement. Jeff had been sent the text of the proposed contract and it had covered everything from how far they could build to how the garbage was disposed. He knew every possible detail needed to be uncovered, but really, he didn't want to be the person to do it.

"But I believe we need to start out with personnel. Especially regarding the events of yesterday."

"I don't understand," Jeff said slowly, knowing it was better to admit ignorance here than to fake knowledge.

"I will send you the updated version." She touched her slate absently. "I ask that your Major Tappen be allowed to serve in the city as part of his military contract. You'll have a fully staffed base, won't you?"

Jeff looked at the slate as it updated, then slid to the section on personnel. The last iteration he remembered the only thing the queen had asked for was that a dom/sub team would always be assigned to the planet to interface with the citizens of Harmony, to keep any more misunderstandings from occurring. Now it put in a very specific request for Major Tappen. "You want him to be assigned as Ian's sub?" Jeff blurted.

"We can arrange for one of our citizens to serve at your base, in exchange," Lady Verona pointed out. "It's a fair trade."

Jeff shook his head, about ready to deny the request out of hand. They didn't sell their people like this. He swallowed his words. "I need to run this through my captain," he said. "As well as the other provisions concerning construction and trade and access to your technology."

Michelle nodded. "That is to be expected. We'll convene again when you have her answer to our current terms. Understand, Commander Morgan, I am very serious about Major Tappen being assigned here. He will be given every right as a sub of Harmony."

But not, Jeff thought, as a citizen of the UP.

***

When Jeff arrived back at the healers', he found Claudia waiting in the general area, before the long hallway of rooms. She sat on one of the benches against the wall, her hands clasped in her lap. Jeff walked over to her, relieved when she smiled at his approach.

"Misha is in with Jensen," she explained. "I thought it best to give them some time alone."

Jeff dropped into the seat next to her, feeling the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders. Claudia had spoken to him about responsibility, and Jeff thought he had understood, he'd spent more than twenty years in the service, after all. But he'd never been responsible for one man's freedom before.

"Has he slept off the drugs yet?"

Claudia laughed. "Hopefully. I'm sure now that his arm has been healed, you can take him back to your suite to finish recovering."

Jeff wondered how common these kinds of injuries were. They seemed to be able to heal almost anything, including Peter's whip stripped back. Well, examining this technology would be the task of the team assigned here.

"I'm sure he will be well," Claudia said softly. "I know how you must feel, to have quarreled with him before."

He turned to look at her, astonished. "How could you tell that?"

"Sub Jensen was not himself this morning."

That was an understatement. He wished he could ask Claudia for advice, stars above, she'd been the most helpful person in Harmony. "How do you stand it? When Misha fucks others?" He was crude on purpose. It almost expressed the mass of emotion whirling in his belly, how much it disturbed him that Jensen slept with him only out of duty. Jeff couldn't explain why it upset him now, after they'd shared so much together, he'd known from the beginning what Jensen was.

What had changed? Jeff looked down at his hands, remembering how his fingers had bound Jensen, how he'd carried the younger man twice now, helplessly dependent on Jeff.

"I knew he was a red band when I claimed him," Claudia said softly. "His desire to be used is a gift, how he subsumes himself into nothing. I feel pride, watching him. Because, you see, he always comes back to me."

"Is that enough?"

"He comes back to me, because his heart is with me, Commander."

"Please," Jeff sighed. "Call me Jeff." After sharing so much with someone, he'd at least offer his first name, something he couldn't offer Jensen, for completely different reasons in Harmony than in the stars.

Claudia smiled at him. "Well, then Jeff. I'm not certain what you argued about. But I find sometimes a dom needs to reassure his sub. Remind him that he is owned. And loved."

Loved? Jeff had not heard that word used here before, had not even considered it between dom and sub, although now, it was so apparent, at least with some pairs. As Misha came down the hallway, his face lighting up at the sight of his mistress, Jeff wondered. It seemed love here might be just as rare as anywhere else. He thought of Adrian and Peter, no love there, but bound by something else. Jeff decided he would never understand these people. But he wished he could understand Jensen.

***

Jensen rubbed at his arm, feeling nothing but smooth skin and a bit of soreness. Healer Nicci had cautioned him to avoid being suspended by his arms for two weeks, and it had made him smile, that he'd found a place where that kind of thing was standard information for a doctor to hand out after a bad injury. He'd broken bones before, but it usually took longer than a few hours for the accelerated healing to kick in. Once again he'd been faced with some amazing technology, he just wished he could remember it.

"Does it hurt?" Jeff asked, coming out of the bathroom of their quarters. He'd ordered Jensen to bed as soon as they had returned to finish sleeping off the drugs.

Jensen shook his head. "It aches, like a sore muscle."

"I think the drugs threw you more than the compound fracture." Jeff sat on the end of the bed. "You missed dinner, want me to get you anything?"

His stomach twisted at the thought. "No. I think the drugs have another side effect. I, I didn't say anything stupid, while I was doped up?"

Jeff threw him one of his amazing grins, the smile that went straight to Jensen's groin. "Well, you sure did giggle a lot."

"Ah." Jensen leaned against the pillows; relieved it hadn't been anything worse.

"And you asked me to punish you."

Jensen could feel the flush rising in his cheeks. They'd been getting along so well, too, since leaving the healers', no trace of the awkwardness from this morning. If Jensen had known that all he needed to do to fix that was getting injured he might have tried that earlier. "Oh. Can I blame Misha? It was his idea."

"And Claudia said I needed to remind you that you are owned."

The covers suddenly seemed fascinating to him, Jensen traced the embroidery at the edges, he hadn't noticed the tiny roses before, in silvery white thread. "But I'm not . . ."

"Jensen, what do you need?" Jeff shifted forward on the bed, one hand raised. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't know what to do with it, and then, finally, he placed it on Jensen's cheek, stroking with his thumb. "Tell me how to fix this."

Jeff couldn't fix this, Jensen thought, not unless he started returning Jensen's feelings. And since Jeff thought Jensen only submitted to him because of the mission, he knew the odds of that were slim to none. Damn it, Jensen was a professional, he should be able to push past this, focus on completing the mission, no matter how he felt. "You think a scene would fix it?" If that's what Jeff believed, then Jensen would go with it.

"Well, not right now. You need to rest."

"I've been sleeping all day," Jensen protested, not that he wanted a go in the playroom just yet. "Oh, you never told me what happened in your meeting with the queen?"

Jeff chuckled, although the sound lacked any joy to it. "Are you sure you want to get into this now? It may take all night."

"I want to know what she decided about Major Tappen at least."

All amusement disappeared from Jeff's face. "They put it in the contract. She wants Tappen to finish out his tour of duty here, as a liaison to the city, as Ian's sub."

"Well, fuck," Jensen muttered. So much for that tactic. "How are we going to get him out of this?"

"We're not." Jeff's dark eyes grew stormy. "I spoke to the captain. She thinks the admirals might very well agree to it, as long as they get their hands on that damn technology."

Jensen's belly roiled, and he swallowed hard against the sudden nausea. "That . . . that would be slavery. That doesn't sound like something the queen would condone at all. Do you think Tappen agreed to it? Did you speak to him?"

"Not yet." Jeff shook his head. "Sometimes, I'm not sure if all the fighting is worth it, you know, if it's all going to fucking go down like this."

"It is worth it," Jensen said, grasping Jeff's hand in his. "I've lived in the Confed, I know. We can't stop fighting."

"And who knows," Jeff said weakly. "This might be the thing that lets us win."

Jensen smiled, his lips pressed together. "Get some sleep. Sometimes that helps with perspective."

As Jeff slid beside him, Jensen slid back into the folds of his embrace, willing to pretend, for a moment, that this was real, that he was owned, at least for tonight.

***

Jensen looked so peaceful as he slept, curled around one of the large pillows, his naked body oddly dark against the pale sheets. His collar stood out in stark relief, a bright contrast to everything else. Jeff sat on the edge of the bed, not used to waking up before Jensen, although he had done so on purpose this morning. If Jensen needed this - be it discipline or punishment, or whatever - it was Jeff's duty to provide it.

He touched Jensen's shoulder, stroking the smooth skin gently until Jensen sniffed and opened his eyes. "Are you all right this morning?"

Jensen blinked, his eyes still hazy with sleep. "What?"

"Do you feel strong enough to scene?" Jeff clarified.

"Oh!" Jensen's face brightened, but he frowned for a moment. "I need to eat. I feel all right, but I need to see if I can keep food down."

"Have breakfast." He nodded over to the tray he'd placed on his side of the bed. "Shower and prepare yourself, then meet me in the playroom. If you are nude, I'll know it's all right. If you don't feel strong enough, put on some form of clothing. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Jeff paced the length of the playroom, his mind racing. This would be the first time he had planned a true scene of his own. Even what they'd done on the ship to prepare for the mission had been done by instinct, without forethought, Jeff just doing what felt natural. Before he'd had Jensen or Claudia to help him, and he'd merely followed their lead before moving forward.

Now, though, now could make or break everything.

Although Jeff knew he didn't understand this world or its people, Jensen had tried to get him to understand the nature of this kind of sex. Jeff had done the readings, although none of that could have prepared him for the reality. But in his research Jeff had read that some individuals needed this, and he figured Jensen for one of them. If a drugged and doped up Jensen had pleaded for punishment, then he'd needed it, had asked when a normally sober Jensen wouldn't.

The door shimmered open, and Jensen walked in, head bowed, arms behind his back and nude as the day he was born. Jeff felt part of the knot in his belly release.

"Sir, if I may speak?"

"Go ahead."

"The healer said I may not be suspended from my arms for two weeks."

Jeff nodded, it only made sense after all. "Is there anything else the healer said that I should know about?"

"No, sir."

"Anything else that you need to say to me?"

Again: "No, sir."

"Good. Atten-tion!"

Jensen snapped into formation, although his eyes widened in surprise at the sudden command. His back straightened, shoulders squared, belly tucked in, arms stilled, heels snapped together, and his gaze moved straight ahead, even when Jeff came around to circle him, as if for inspection.

"From now on, you will not speak until spoken to, is that understood, slut?" Jeff said the word like he would say cadet, like it was a title, and one Jensen had earned.

"Sir, yes sir!"

Jeff circled him again, considering. "Look at you, standing there, getting hard just at the sound of my voice. Do you know why you're here, slut?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Tell me why you are here, slut!" Jeff got into Jensen's face, trying to be as intimidating as his drill sergeant from basic.

"To be punished, sir," Jensen's voice cracked on the last word. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not deterred by Jeff's actions.

"And why are you being punished?"

Jensen apparently had to think about that for a moment, before he stuttered out, "For not being more careful in the garden, sir."

"And?" It was interesting to find out what else Jensen thought he should be punished for.

He could see Jensen swallow, his throat working before he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes flickering away. "For not being 100% focused on the mission, sir."

Jeff nodded and stepped away, as if he knew exactly what Jensen was talking about. As far as he was concerned, Jensen had been focused, playing his part brilliantly. Then again, maybe that was the problem, Jensen had gone too far into his sub persona, unable to do his job without it. That didn't seem quite right, but Jeff couldn't think of anything better.

"Here's what we're gonna do, slut. This is punishment, this isn't supposed to be fun." Jeff took a deep breath, feeling slightly guilty about his next actions, but knowing they were necessary. He reached out and slapped Jensen's balls, hard.

Jensen hissed, and nearly lost his footing.

"Get yourself under control," Jeff snapped. "That cock had better be soft by the time I get back." Then he walked over to one of the trunks, lifting the lid slowly. He had put the thing on top earlier, but he stalled for time, giving Jensen a chance to compose himself.

When he turned back to Jensen, hiding the device behind his back, Jensen was trembling slightly, so slight Jeff wouldn't have noticed if he weren't checking for it carefully. Jensen's dick hung soft between his legs, though it looked as if the younger man were still battling for control. It didn't matter; Jeff had things well in hand.

Jensen opened his mouth, perhaps to speak, but apparently remembered the rules, snapping his jaw shut with a loud snap. Jeff ignored the infraction, just raised an eyebrow. "Hold still," he told him, before bending to close the metal sheath around Jensen's cock, locking it closed with a click. Now Jensen couldn't get hard, not until Jeff released him from the cage.

When he straightened, Jeff took a moment to savor the expression on the other man's face. Jensen looked surprised, pained, and confused all at once. That adorable flush rose in his cheeks, and Jeff wondered if it was embarrassment, since it couldn't exactly be arousal. His own dick stirred, heat rising in him at the sight of Jensen so thoroughly at his mercy. Jensen could not even get hard, unless Jeff let him. The power of that went straight to his groin.

"Get the chair from the corner there." Jeff pointed. "And put it in the center of the room."

He had meant to tie Jensen to the giant X, wanting to see him spread-eagled and open, unable to do anything but writhe against the ropes around his wrists and ankles. But he'd thought better of it after the doctor's warning. It wasn't exactly suspension, but Jensen liked to struggle and Jeff didn't want him to pull too hard and injure his arm again. No, bending Jensen over the chair would be nearly as nice. He'd save the X for another time.

And Jeff wanted there to be another time, he looked forward to it, to having Jensen bound for his pleasure. When the hell had this happened? He'd always gotten off on the sex, when one had a partner as beautiful and sensual as Jensen, that was bound to happen. But to actively look forward to more, to desiring to control Jensen? Jeff couldn't blame it on familiarity exactly.

Jensen obeyed him, dragging the armchair to the center of the playroom. Like the ones in the sitting room, this chair would serve his purposes perfectly. Jeff moved behind him and pushed Jensen down and over the back of the chair, so his arms caught on the seat. "Spread your legs," he said as slid his knee between Jensen's thighs.

Jeff gave in to his desire to run his hands over Jensen's taut buttocks. He squeezed and pulled the cheeks apart. When Jensen squirmed at his actions, Jeff smacked him hard, leaving a pink handprint that faded almost immediately. "Stay still."

"Yes, sir."

Jeff buried his fingers in Jensen's hair and pulled him up by it. "Was that a direct question, slut?"

"No, sir," Jensen choked out.

Jeff pushed him back down. "I see someone doesn't know how to follow orders." He moved back over to the trunk and pulled out one of the gags, a strip of leather attached to a black rubber ball. He tied it around Jesnen's mouth, admiring the way his full lips stretched around the ball, looking like he was perpetually sucking a very large cock. Jeff ran his finger around those lips, slick with saliva.

Jensen looked up at him from under his lashes, his gaze sensual and submissive, and yet he looked curious, as if wondering exactly what Jeff would do next. Jeff hoped to surprise him.

Along one wall a selection of implements hung, and Jeff had been fascinated by the row of paddles since he saw them. He didn't imagine there could be such a variety in sizes or material, from leather covered to plain wood. Jeff picked one, as long as his forearm, flat and straight, with a cloth covered handle. Jensen could see this from where he stood, and so Jeff took his time, measuring the weight of the paddle, taking a few practice swings, and gauging its weight. It would do.

When he circled back around, behind Jensen, Jeff caught the flinch, the way Jensen tensed in anticipation. But Jeff wouldn't strike him just yet. No, he wanted that ass, to have it tingling from a fresh fucking, his come deep inside Jensen and sliding down his thighs while Jeff beat him so Jensen remembered exactly who owned him.

He slid a finger inside Jensen, checking to make sure he'd obeyed and prepared himself beforehand. Although he slid inside with little difficulty, Jensen still seemed so tight. "Relax," Jeff growled out, knowing if he plunged inside now, he could hurt Jensen.

Jensen made a whimpering sound behind his gag, but Jeff could see the conscious effort to relax, the way the tension leeched from his muscles.

Jeff pushed Jensen's thighs open even further, giving him room to work inside that tight little hole. He had to make this quick, Jeff didn't actually want to hurt Jensen, and the lube was just barely enough. How odd that this was becoming familiar, the way Jensen's body welcomed him in, as if he were made for Jeff to fuck.

And fuck he did, a smooth rhythm, guaranteed to bring him to climax quickly. This wasn't really about his pleasure, it was about marking and ownership, and all those things that Jensen apparently needed. Jeff could only give it to him now. His orgasm coiled in his belly, taking him almost by surprise as he came deep inside the other man. Jeff slid out before he was quite done, watching as his come trailed down Jensen's thighs.

"Feel that, slut?" Jeff said, his voice hoarse. He slid his hands in the mess, smearing it more over Jensen's skin. "How I marked your pretty little ass with my cock?"

Jensen only whimpered in reply.

Jeff picked up the paddle. "Shh, you've been so good so far. You just have to take it. Twenty strokes, slut."

He stepped back, touched the paddle to Jensen's backside, reminding him of its existence. Once again he waited for the tenseness to leave Jensen's muscles, for him to relax into the touch. And then Jeff lifted the paddle, swung and counted "One," as he struck Jensen's ass.

Jensen mewled in reply, his body rising up off the chair. Red bloomed where Jeff had struck. Soon, that entire ass would be flushed and red. Jeff found himself looking forward to it, lifting the paddle for number two. Each stroke came faster and harder, building in intensity. Jensen's body writhed beneath Jeff's hand, his breath coming in heavy gasps and pants.

It was as he called out twenty, the very last stroke that he realized those hitched sounds coming from Jensen's throats were sobs. Jeff dropped the paddle and fell to his knees on the other side of the chair, so he was face to face with Jensen. Tears streamed down the other man's face. "Oh, Jensen," Jeff murmured, pulling off the gag. "C'mon, easy."

He helped Jensen off of the chair, catching him before Jensen lost his footing. Perhaps he'd gone too far? Jensen hadn't fully recovered, after all.

Jensen wound his arms around Jeff's neck, so it seemed only natural to scoop him up in his arms, careful not to touch his bruised ass. As Jensen tucked his face against Jeff's neck, he whispered softly, "Thank you."

Jeff didn't quite know how to feel about that.


	12. Chapter 12

Captain Loretta Devine flipped through the files on her tablet, skimming the standard reports from her officers on the ship. Right now they were pretty stationary, so everything had damn well be running smoothly. She'd give them more time later. Untangling this mess of a contract from Commander Morgan was her first priority.

And she'd admit to herself that the thought was uncharitable. The contract itself was well-organized, phrased with precise, careful language, and considered every possible scenario involving a UP base on 328. Loretta just had the little problem of one Major Tappen to resolve. That and the clause to always have a dom/sub team on the UP side to liaise with the citizens of Harmony. She'd sent off a dispatch to General Ferris, knowing that the Sex Corps would be the only ones who could promise that. As for Major Tappen, well, the word from her superior officer wasn't good for him anyway.

"Captain to the bridge," came over the intercom.

Can't I even have five minutes in peace? She thought tiredly, closing down the screen before leaving her ready room for the ship's bridge. Commander Neil Patrick Harris turned as she entered.

"Captain on the bridge."

"Sit yourself down, Commander, and tell me what the hell is going on."

Harris swallowed. "About twenty minutes ago something appeared on our sensors."

"Something?" she echoed. "From the planet?"

"No. On screen," he commanded. "It's a ship, heading directly in our direction. And it's not one of ours."

Loretta squinted at the screen, watching as the fuzzy image slowly became clearer. "That's a Confed ship."

"Yes, sir."

"What's the ETA?"

"It'll be here in 24 hours."

This was the very last thing she needed. "Send an SOS to Corps Command, Ensign. Triple encrypt it, tell them to send ships ASAP. Commander Harris, put the ship on alert, battle stations ready."

"Captain," Ensign Smith called over. "They're hailing us."

Well, now that threw her for a bit of a loop. "Check the feed for any attempt to break into our central computer, Ensign. Cut off all connection if you find any. Otherwise," she took a deep breath, centering herself in the middle of the bridge. "On screen."

The screen changed to a rather blurry, staticy image of a man in standard Confed uniform. Loretta clenched her hands into fists, having had far too many occasions to get up close and personal with those uniforms.

"I'm Commandant Jack Coleman of the Confederation ship Discovery." He gave an unctuous grin; she could see the oily smirk even through the bad reception.

"Captain Loretta Devine, UPS Mercury," she stated, for the record. "Mind telling me what you're doing this far out in space, Commandant?"

"Exploring, of course," he answered. "If you recall, the Hanburg treaty gives us equal rights to explore deep space. And allows for information sharing."

"Commandant," Loretta began, not sure if she should bring this point up. "You're aware there is a war going on? Why should we share any of our information with you?"

He held out his hands. "This area of space is not disputed territory. This is a peaceful exploration, purely for the purpose of science and knowledge. We left the war behind, Captain."

Right, and any moment now she was about to break into a pirouette. Loretta didn't know his real game, and she worried the Confed had gotten wind of the colonies they were recovering. The last thing she wanted was to send the Confed in the direction of the people on 511, who could not protect themselves from an invasion.

"I'll believe that when I see it, Commandant."

"Fair enough. We'll reach your location by the morning. I look forward to working with you, Captain."

The connection cut out. Loretta sank into the captain's chair.

"No sign of any hacking, Captain," Ensign Smith said.

"Someone get me the damn text of this Hanburg treaty." She was just about ready to strangle some damn fool diplomats.

***

Jensen woke to a gentle hand stroking his hair. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, nearly enough to send him back to sleep.

"Jensen?"

He rolled onto his side, wincing a bit at the ache in his backside. "Hmm?" Jensen said, still on the edge of slumber. Jeff had worked him over pretty good for someone who hadn't even heard of the scene until a few weeks ago. Either Jeff was a fast learner or Jensen a damn good teacher. Either way, the punishment had broken something open inside Jensen, letting free the anxiety and fear that had been building, and allowing him to bring his focus back.

"Did you want to come while I spoke with Major Tappen?"

Jensen's eyes popped open and he looked up at Jeff sitting on the edge of the bed. "Of course."

He didn't imagine the relief in Jeff's eyes. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to keep sleeping."

"Just don't ask me to have a seat," Jensen teased as he slid out of bed. Despite the numbing cream Jeff had rubbed into his skin after the scene, Jensen still felt every bruise. If it bothered him, he had no doubt they could 'cure' it at the Healers'. However, Jensen liked the reminder, how it twinged even as he walked over to the wardrobe to pick out a pair of loose leggings to wear. For one moment at least, he'd been completely owned by Jeff.

"Jensen. . ." Jeff started and Jensen wondered if he was going to apologize. That was the last thing Jensen wanted.

"I'm fine," he said. Jensen found a pair of dark green pants and slid them on. "I'm ready to go back to work."

Jeff's hands touched his shoulders, fingers massaging his muscles, but Jensen knew he was still loose, the tightness melted away after the paddling. "All right. Let's go."

The guards still stood on either side of the doorway to Tappen and Johnson's suite, even though the two men were allowed out, with a guard escort of course. Jensen noted how still the guards were, even after Jeff asked to be let in. Neither of them looked familiar, and Jensen wondered where Ian had gone, if he waited for Major Tappen to be turned over as his sub.

Johnson looked up from perusing a slate at their entrance. "Commander Morgan."

"Hey Karl. Where's Hank?"

The informality surprised Jensen at first, but Johnson was a civilian and they didn't come bearing the best news.

"Out on the terrace, exercising." Johnson nodded to the set of glass doors on the other side of the room.

Jeff walked over and opened them, revealing a shirtless Tappen in the middle of a set of pushups. "Nice form, Major."

Tappen pushed himself up, and gave a sloppy salute. "Sir." He moved to wipe the sweat out of his eyes.

"At ease, soldier. You might want to sit down for this." Jeff edged to the side, giving room for Tappen to enter the suite.

Tappen grabbed a towel slung over the back of a chair and wiped down his face and chest. He was, Jensen thought, extremely fit, admiring the tanned line of muscle. "What's the bad news, Commander?"

Jensen clasped his hands behind his back and tried to look as unobtrusive as possible, although he knew Tappen had one eye on him. The major judged Jensen a threat, kept him under observation at all times. Jensen considered it a compliment.

"First things first. I've been working on behalf of the UP to set up a base on 328. We've been hammering out an agreement with the queen."

"You know, I really don't like the sound of where this is going." Tappen dropped into the chair behind him.

Jeff gave him a twisted grin. "She has some personnel requests. One of them is that you remain here, with Guard Ian, for the rest of your tour of duty."

Tappen sat up in the chair, his back rigid. "What did you tell her?"

"I haven't told her anything. All requisitions go through the captain first. However. . ."

"They're gonna make me do it." Tappen hopped to his feet, his face flushed with anger. "Fucking make me stay here for that God damn base."

To Jensen's surprise, Tappen whirled on him, pointing his finger at Jensen. "This was your idea."

"No," Jensen denied. "I thought I could get you out of it."

"Instead they're using my defense against me."

"I've found these people clever like that," Jeff drawled from across the room, the warning obvious in the tone of his voice.

Tappen backed off, turning away from Jensen, his shoulders a mess of tension.

"Look," Jensen said.  "I didn't want it to turn out like this. If we can figure a way out for you, we will. But I gotta ask you. . .the queen did this for a reason. Did she talk to you?"

After a moment, Tappen gave a tense, short nod. "Asked me a whole bunch of questions about what I thought about Ian. Guard Ian."

Jensen considered telling him there was no shame in his feelings for Ian, but he knew Tappen was far from ready to admitting to having any. He thought back to that strange dream, if that conversation had actually occurred or if he subconscious mind was playing tricks on him, coming up with a happy ending for this couple when he was assured of never getting his own.

"Look," he said, trying to keep his tone even. "The queen obviously thinks you might have feelings for Ian. Whatever else, these people are big on matching pairs up. And they like it when a higher power does it. We saw it ourselves, matching them up like it was fate or something."

"Great, I'm in the starring role of Fiddler in the Airlock," Tappen muttered.

"What?" Jensen shook his head.  "Even if you have to stay. . .I can help you. Give you some advice. Some training. If you'll take it from a Scut."

"I'd think about that before you respond, Major," Jeff put in.

Jensen didn't think Tappen's pride would let him accept. Instead, the major surprised him.

"Fine." Then he whirled back around. "That's if you can't fix this."

"Fine," Jensen agreed.

When they left the suite, a flashing screen shimmered out of the air and appeared in front of them.

"I think we have a message," Jeff said, the tele system still new to them. "Answer," he told the screen.

Jensen smiled at the sight of Misha and Peter. Misha gave a little bow. "Good day, Commander Morgan."

"Hello, Misha," Jeff said with a smile.

"Sub Peter and I are traveling to the heart of the city. There are several events for the Choosing and I hope to visit one of the groomers. We would like to invite Sub Jensen to accompany us."

Jeff turned to face Jensen and mouthed the word "groomer?" with a raised eyebrow. Jensen bit his lip to keep from laughing. He gave a quick nod to show he was up for the trip. He'd never been out of the palace, except for the short time before getting on the tram and Jensen was damn curious how this society worked outside the royal factions.

"All right." Jeff turned back. "Just don't have him out late. Come back before dusk."

"Yes, sir," Misha said. "We're on the tram deck on the lavender level. Can you meet us here, Sub Jensen?"

"Of course," he answered. He'd find it, somehow.

The screen winked out, leaving no trace of it in the hallway.

"You sure about this?" Jeff asked. "With your, you know…"

Jensen lifted a hand to rub his ass. "I've had worse."

"Really?"

"That's not an invitation!" Jensen grinned. "I really would like to see what the rest of the city is like. This is the perfect opportunity."

"Fine, but take your comm. I don't know if the tele will work out there, and I want you to report back every hour."

"Yes, sir."

***

Jeff once again found himself without his sub. At least this time Jensen was out doing something hopefully fun and not drugged up in the infirmary. Still, without an appointment to attend, he found himself at loose ends. He flicked through the listing of Choosing events on the tele, wondering if he should attend one on his own, or if that would be considered gauche.

If someone had asked Jeff a month ago if he thought he would be in this situation – trying to figure out the etiquette of a society set up around kinky sexual roles – Jeff would have laughed. He never would have dreamed that not only would he navigate such a society, he'd take part in it, hell, even enjoy some of the things Jensen had introduced him to.

Sometimes Jeff wondered how much Jensen had taught him and how much was already just lurking inside him, waiting for the right time to come out. He'd never felt like this with Katie, never wanted to tie her down and make her submit. Yet, all he wanted with Jensen was to see him on his knees. Even now, just the thought of Jensen bent over, cock caged and ass prepared for him, had Jeff getting hard again.

Annoyed, he grabbed the slate with the proposed agreement for the UP base. Maybe if did some work out in the gardens, he'd clear his head a bit. He could think circles around what Jensen had introduced him to, but Jeff couldn't come to conclusions while he was still stuck in the middle of the situation.

He passed several subs in the garden, some working wrist deep in the dirt, which surprised him. Jeff would have figured the crazy alien tech would have gotten the whole weeding thing taken care of. He'd have to check if they'd cured the common cold yet.

He found a bench looking over the blue waters of the ocean and settled himself in the shade of a leafy tree. The fresh air helped, and he found himself better able to concentrate, adding several notes to the document to confer with Jensen about before taking it to the queen.

"Commander Morgan?"

Jeff opened his eyes at the sound of his name; he must have fallen asleep. He turned on the bench to see the princess standing on the path, a tall dark-skinned man behind her. After a moment, Jeff recognized the sub from the town square. "Alona," he said, drawing himself to his feet. "I was just enjoying your gardens."

She laughed as she came closer, her long hair unbound and free, fluttering in the slight wind. "Father falls asleep in the gardens all the time. I don't know how he does it."

Probably just very bored, Jeff thought, with a sheepish look at the slate. "Well, they are lovely gardens."

"I wanted to introduce you to my sub. My first sub." She all but bounced on her toes. "Dourdan, this is Commander Morgan."

The man came forward and bowed, his hands behind his back. He was dressed in black, and towered over Alona, both served to make him look more like a bodyguard than a sub. But then again, maybe that was the kind of sub Alona needed.

"We had a private collaring," Alona said, and only then did Jeff notice the dark blue collar around Dourdan's neck. "I didn't. . .I'm in the public eye enough. I wanted something for myself." She took a deep breath. "And it's not like pictures won't be all over the tele soon anyway."

Obviously the tele had capabilities Jeff hadn't yet learned. "I think you're wise to be realistic," he said as diplomatically as he could.

She smiled again at his words. "I suppose. Well, I need to finish showing him around. Good day, Commander."

"Good day, Princess." He watched as they left, Dourdan shadowing the girl, he seemed protective of her. Jeff hoped Alona had made the right choice.

***

Not wanting to face sitting in the tram for the ride into the center of town, Jensen knelt in the wide center aisle. Peter gave him a look. "We don't have to kneel if our masters aren't on the tram." He had taken a seat next to Misha.

Jensen gave a little cough. "Let's just say I don't want to be sitting right now."

Misha burst out laughing. "Did you finally get what you asked for then?"

He could feel the blush rising in his cheeks. "Maybe," Jensen said.

"Don't ask for details, please, Misha." Peter rolled his eyes.

Jensen ignored their bickering, too caught up in the city rapidly coming closer as the tram descended, although once again he couldn't actually feel the motion of the vehicle. The place that looked so amazing from the air looked just as spectacular up close. He could see the tiled metal most buildings were made out of, the glittering streets, the throngs of people walking along the square, all of them either collared or dressed in something they'd call fetish-wear back home.

"Groomer's first, I think," Misha said as the tram touched down. "Get that out of the way."

"We could have done that at the palace," Peter grumbled.

Jensen pushed himself gingerly to his feet and followed the other two out of the tram. He craned his neck, unable to see exactly how tall some of the buildings were. It reminded him of a strange mix of New York City and one of the old Confederation towns he'd been to, built to look like a city from the past. The trams, the shiny buildings and bridges and lifts were all very modern, but everyone walked, carts sold goods on the streets, and the fountain sputtered real water, which you'd never see on Earth these days.

"Why didn't we go at the palace?" Jensen asked, tearing his eyes away for a moment to catch up with the other two men.

Misha sighed. "Is it so wrong that I wanted an excuse to come downtown? If we'd gotten groomed at the palace we'd just sit around all night holding our balls."

Jensen covered his mouth with his hand to hide the giggle. Ah, groomer suddenly made sense now. Oh stars, what did they call Hollywood waxes here? "Wait," he said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. "You don't expect me to, ah, join you?" Jensen normally used depilatory cream to keep his balls smooth, but he hadn't gotten around to a fresh application this week.

Misha turned and gave him a downright evil grin. "Now, Jensen, aren't you always telling me you wish to learn more about our ways?"

"Not with my balls," he muttered as Misha took one arm, Peter took the other, and damn it if both of them didn't march him over to the groomers. He briefly considered calling Jeff for help.

The inside of the shop reminded him a bit of the healers', clinical and clean, with stations behind opaque curtains that shimmered away when needed. They were greeted by a smiling sub wearing pale clothing, who took their names and assigned them each to a different station.

"Trust me, you'll thank me," Misha told him. "You were getting a bit straggly."

"I'll show you straggly," was the most intelligent thing Jensen could think of to say before going in to his appointment. "Oh, hi."

"First time?" the sub on the other side of the curtain asked with a grin.

"We'll just go with that, sure." Jensen, resigned at this point to his fate, dropped his pants and eased onto the table at her direction.

"Do you wish the pain numbed beforehand or not?"

"Oh, please, numb me."

She turned away, most likely to hide her grin, but Jensen did not give a damn. There were just some things you couldn't ask a man to endure. Having hot wax put on his balls, and then torn off was one of them. Although, Jensen considered, hot wax in other places, well, that might be kind of fun.

Lost in his thoughts, he nearly jumped when the sub sprayed something cool over his privates. It tingled for a moment, rather pleasantly, before going numb.

Jensen looked down, then decided he really didn't need to see this and shut his eyes. The wax felt pleasantly warm, and the ripping only like gentle tugs. When she told him she had finished, Jensen opened his eyes, surprised. He was silky smooth, however.

"Thank you." He grinned.

"The numbness will wear off in an hour. You should put some gel on it before bed and then again in the morning."

He got a tube of the gel and then went back out into the waiting area, surprised to see Peter arguing in hushed voices with one of the grooming subs.

"Tell your master," the sub was saying, "to wait at least one night. It's not healthy."

"Thank you for your concern," Peter said stiffly and for the first time Jensen saw the prince in him.

No, that wasn't true, Jensen realized Peter had always carried himself with a certain regal quality. Even when bound and whipped, there seemed to be something otherworldly about him.

"Problem?" he asked, coming up to them.

Peter shook his head. The sub threw up his hands and went back behind the curtain. "He didn't want me to replace some of the, ah, equipment I was wearing."

Jensen had a flashback to that day in the park, when Misha had lifted Peter's kilt and revealed the chastity device he wore. Was Peter wearing it now? Jensen winced in sympathy; that could not be comfortable against his freshly waxed groin.

"Do you always. . . ?" he started, then realized the rudeness of the question and trailed of. "Where's Misha?"

Peter gave him a small smile, as if grateful for the change of subject. "It takes him a bit longer, he gets everything removed."

Honestly, Jensen didn't think Misha had enough body hair to necessitate the waxing. Before he could voice the thought, Misha came out from behind one of the curtains, a flush high on his cheeks. The skin on his chest looked freshly scrubbed. Well, Jensen thought, if he only wore that kilt everywhere, Misha probably wanted to put forth a good impression.

"Where to now?" Jensen asked as they left the groomer's.

They paused, and traffic continued around them. Jensen caught a whiff of something delicious roasting, possible some sort of nut, whatever it was had his mouth salivating. Misha and Peter considered.

"I'd like to stay with the shops outside."

"Right, don't want to overwhelm him with the emporium just yet."

"And we can't miss the auction afterwards."

"Oh, I know, Master Albe's." Peter looked around the square, as if orienting himself. Jensen didn't know how, he figured there must be some way, but all streets looked alike to him. "Come."

They did stop to pick up bags of the nuts on the way, after passing the booth and Jensen's obvious longing for the items. When he asked about payment, Misha only said, "It'll go on your account, or your master's if you have it set up that way."

"And how do I find this account?" Jensen grumbled, no one had explained that since they'd left the clothier on their very first day here. He guessed they hadn't needed to, everything had been provided for them at the palace.

"On the tele," Peter said. "You can look up the Tal you've earned, and what you've expended. If you're permitted to hold your own Tal of course."

"Of course," Jensen repeated. He guessed Tal was the unit of currency, named for the Royal family. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen something like that. "How do you earn it?"

"Selling goods and providing service," Misha said. "Here we are."

Misha and Peter had taken him to a shop, and once past the doors Jensen realized the glass objects up for sale had to have all been made by hand. At the back of the wide store, a doorway opened up to the workroom where he could see some of the work being done, although the heat from the kiln didn't penetrate into the store proper.

The shelves were wide, dark wood that accentuated each individual piece. The sex toys were all along the right, separate from the tiny sculptures on the other side of the store. Jensen investigated them eagerly, comparing the glass dildos to the one he owned, back up on the Mercury. It had been a gift from Senator McKellen, for services rendered, and used only once. He wondered what Jeff would think if he brought one home.

"And they aren't just pretty," Misha murmured at his side. "Some vibrate, some can change temperature, others, I heard mind you, can lube themselves."

"How…?" Jensen asked.

"With Harmony's blessing."

Of course, he should have known better than to ask. Jensen shook his head. He decided against purchasing anything, he had no idea how many credits he had in his account and the last thing he needed was to get him and Jeff into debt on 328. Maybe later, once he found out how much Tal they actually had, he could come back and buy an engagement gift for Jared. He grinned as he imagined the look on his brother's face if Jensen presented him with one of these brightly colored sex toys.

Misha decided on a slim crimson dildo, curved like a giant screw, and brought it up to the counter. Jensen looked around for Peter and found him in conversation with a tall man, a dom by the lack of collar. He drifted over, surprised at the talk he did hear.

"And how is your sister? I know she was waiting for the Choosing before contracting her first sub."

Peter smiled. "She is well. I know she had a private Collaring."

"Ah, yes, that is very like her."

At Jensen's approach, Peter turned and flushed. "Master Davis, this is Sub Jensen. He's one of the visitors from the stars."

Always with that introduction. Jensen refrained from sighing and instead executed a polite bow. "Sir," he said.

"Master Davis was one of my trainers at the Schola."

"And I had the pleasure of training the Princess Alona as well," Davis said with a fond smile. He didn't fit any picture of trainer Jensen had, thinking more of Mistress Albaney, the trainer who had whipped Peter in her over the top leather bustier. This man dressed in flowing leggings, his long dark hair flowed over his shoulders, and he had kind eyes, with smile lines around his lips. "Two of my best pupils."

"Thank you, sir." Peter looked down bashfully.

"I hear you are in Duke Adrian's household now. I must admit I didn't expect you to take the black so quickly. Especially since you showed no sign of masochism in my care." Davis frowned.

Jensen wondered at his daring to speak his mind so plainly, especially in front of a stranger. He expected doms were given much more liberty, and as a trainer, Davis should be high-ranked.

Peter cleared his throat. "Duke Adrian has many varied interests. It's a good placement, I can hardly ask for a higher status."

"No, but status isn't everything. Your friend Sub Erin, for example, joined with a shopkeeper. Her last message was simply glowing with happiness."

"Erin?" Peter's face brightened. "I haven't spoken to her in. . .Thank you, sir, for telling me. I'm glad she's doing well."

"Have you spoken to any of your companions from the Schola, Peter?" Davis asked, head cocked to one side.

Peter stiffened. "I have not had the occasion to, since I do live in Pasdar now."

"Ah, quite correct," but even Jensen could see Davis was only humoring Peter now. "I'm glad you were able to come home for the Choosing, even if you must leave so soon."

"So am I," Peter all but whispered.

"It was good meeting you, Sub Jensen. I wish you safe journey back to your stars," Davis said with a wink before going up to the counter of the shop. Peter stared at him with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Jensen thought back to his own training, he had had many teachers, although General Ferris - Colonel Ferris at the time - had taken a personal interest in him. Perhaps this Davis was the same to Peter? He couldn't begin to guess, he had no idea how many trainers a sub went through while at this Schola.

"You'll have to explain your training system to me, one day," Jensen said.

Peter looked over and smiled. "Sometimes I forget you really don't know much about our city."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

After they left the glass shop, Misha and Peter took him to a few more stores: a leather worker, a clothing store, one that sold toys for children, and yet another with fresh flowers, though Jensen had no idea where those had come from. Mission reports had found no evidence of farms, and he didn't think anyone ventured outside of Harmony's borders. They passed by a set of public baths, though neither made a move to go in. Jensen figured every service in the palace was duplicated out here for the common citizen.

They waited around the fountain for a bit, watching as a wooden stage was set up across from them. Jensen appreciated the moment to rest, his feet tired from the constant walking. He opened his mouth to ask what the stage was for, when Misha jumped to his feet. "Come, I know where the participants in the auction are waiting."

"Oh, Misha not a tavern. We're supposed to set a good example for Jensen."

A tavern? Jensen wondered at that. He hadn't seen any alcoholic beverages, and just assumed this city didn't have any. It would make sense with the risky sex being it's own intoxication. Plus, one needed a clear head for true mastery.

"No," Misha corrected. "We're supposed to show Jensen what life in the city is like. Come."

He led them through the crowd, and down a street away from the main square. Then Misha ducked down an alleyway, which seemed to double back towards the square. Jensen didn't see anyone else coming this way, and he looked back at Peter, who just shook his head.

Misha touched what looked to be just a plain brick wall to Jensen. A wave spread from his fingertips, and a door morphed into being. "Just follow me," he told them before pushing the door open.

Beyond the door, Jensen quickly glanced around the dimly lit room, realizing they were in some kind of backroom, stacks of crates along one wall. Further on he could hear voices – giggling, speaking in a low overtone, one voice louder than the rest. They moved past the backroom and into what looked like a giant dressing room, filled with mirrors, and lights, long couches and racks of clothing.

This was the source of the voices, subs in groups, huddled around mirrors, putting make-up on each other, or trading one outfit for another, though Jensen soon saw that less was clearly more. As they entered, a woman broke away from the group and launched herself at Misha.

"Harmony's tits, Misha, what are you doing here?" she said, throwing her arms around him in big hug. She was tall and muscled, wearing nothing more than a short leather kilt, and a strapless top that pushed her well-formed breasts forward and up.

"Watch you language, Sabine, I have black collars with me," Misha joked back, his voice light.

Sabine looked over Misha's shoulder, giving Jensen and Peter a once over. Dismissing them, she pulled back. "Humph. Not like we don't have some purple bands hanging about for the auction."

Misha seemed shocked. "What?"

She waved a hand over at the other side of the room, where a small group of subs sat. They weren't speaking or laughing like the others, instead they huddled together, every so often looking worriedly at the door. Only then that Jensen noticed every other sub in the room wore a red collar. "They weren't picked up during the open market. Apparently some are desperate enough to try to find a long term master at auction."

"Oh, Sabine, don't tell me. . ."

"What can I say, baby face, you started a trend. More and more of them show up every auction." She shook her head, black curls flying everywhere.

As they spoke, a group of subs who had been in hushed conversation pushed a tiny girl forward. She cleared her throat and asked, her voice cracking. "Excuse me, are you THE Sub Misha?"

Misha laughed. "Yes, love, I am."

Jensen looked over at Peter; it appeared that both of them had been forgotten. "Do you have any idea what is going on?"

Peter crossed his arms over his chest, a stormy expression on his face. "Misha worked the taverns before being bought by Duchess Claudia at auction. He's been with her ever since."

"I take it that's not usual for, ah, red bands?" Jensen hazarded a guess.

"Well, if they do get a long-term master, they usually convert to another color. Misha's the only one who's stayed with the red," Peter said. "He has a rather infamous reputation."

At the sight of so many subs grouping around Misha, eager for his regard and conversation, Jensen could see that.

"He's often held up as an example of the perfect sub," Peter said, his voice dropping in tone. He tilted his head to one side, considering. "It's not an unwarranted description."

Maybe there was a purpose to Misha being the one to have shown so much to Jensen during his time here. He had long wondered why the queen hadn't sent one of her own subs to do the job. "Are you as well-known?" he asked, curious. Peter was the first-born son, sub or not.

"Only as one of Lord Adrian's now."

Clearly, Jensen thought, not as famous as the red band who became the primary of a Duchess. He guessed it wasn't so unusual then, for a sub prince to go to another of the royal court. Misha's rise to fame seemed more spectacular, and he knew from experience those kind of stories always got more attention.

"All right, sluts, line up for inspection!" a burly dom entered the dressing room, a short cat o' nine tails whip in one hand, which he cracked against the wall.

Jensen's heart beat rapidly, oh, he really didn't want to get caught out here, in a place where he and Peter should clearly not be. Then again, no one had paid them any attention so far, they might continue to go unnoticed.

The subs all lined up next to each other, standing shoulder to shoulder, arms clasped behind their back. Misha stood apart, grinning at the dom who suddenly noticed he had extra subs in the room. "Hello, Master Hal," he said.

"Misha," Hal cried, a grin split his heavy features and he dropped the cat to grasp Misha by his forearms. Then he leaned forward and planted a kiss on the sub, Misha's head tilted back and his mouth opened willingly to be devoured by the much larger man. Hal pulled back long enough to say. "Missed you, slut."

Misha blushed, a dark red tingeing his cheeks. Jensen had never seen the normally unflappable sub suddenly gone shy with embarrassment before. "Missed you too, sir."

Hal didn't let Misha go, he kept hold of one arm but freed one hand to cup Misha's face, stroking his jaw in slow tender motions. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see the auction. I wanted to show the back end of things to Sub Jensen." Misha tilted his head back and Hal looked over at Jensen and Peter, his eyes lighting up.

Jensen tugged at his collar, aware of the sudden scrutiny of this bold new dom. He looked over at Peter, willing to take his lead, but Peter stood stock still, his throat working.

"He's the sub from the stars," Hal murmured, coming over to regard Jensen, though he seemed reluctant to leave Misha's side to do so. "The one with green eyes."

Whispers started among the subs, still in lineup. Hal turned around and yelled for them to keep silent. "You lot still need to be inspected!" The talk hushed, and the subs seemed to regain their discipline, standing even more still. Hal circled Jensen, rubbing his chin with one hand. What was he looking for, Jensen wondered? A tail? "Any more like you where you came from?"

Jensen smiled, though even he could feel the strain in it. "I am rather unique."

"I suppose you'll stay to watch the auction." Hal moved back to Misha's side, slipping his arm around the sub's waist. "Will you go on the block?"

"Oh, no." Misha shook his head. "I am happy with my mistress. I would like to help."

"You can call out numbers, the crowd would love you."

Jensen didn't quite know what to think about that, whether Misha just had the opportunity right now to sever everything he had with Claudia. His comm chirped from the inner pocket of his tunic, where he had slid it before coming out to town. "Excuse me," he murmured, but Misha was already engaged in private conversation with Hal, and didn't notice Jensen ducking to the backroom, Peter following.

"Jensen?" Jeff's voice came through.

"Yes, sir," Jensen answered; hoping the 'sir' served as warning enough that he wasn't alone.

"I need you to get back to the palace, ASAP."

Jensen looked up at Peter. "Is something wrong?"

"We'll discuss it when you get back here. Hop on the first tram. Morgan out."

Jensen closed the connection and turned back to Peter.

"Your communication devices are so strange," Peter said.

"But portable." Jensen gave him a brief smile before heading back into the dressing room. He stepped up to Misha, who was watching Hal give the inspection. "I need to return to the palace."

Misha turned and pouted at him. "But the auction hasn't even started yet!"

It wasn't a matter of Jeff being contrary and ordering Jensen back early, something must have happened. But Jensen couldn't explain that right now. "I know. But we have to go."

"Peter can take you back," Misha said. "I'm going to stay."

"Misha!" Peter hissed under his breath. "You know Mistress Claudia would. . ."

"I'm staying, Peter." Misha glared at him.

"It'll be on your ass, then," Peter grumbled. He took Jensen by the arm and led him back the way they had come, his face an angry red. Jensen didn't speak until after they made it back to the alleyway, following as Peter stomped back to the main square.

"Will he be all right?" Jensen asked, wondering if that was what had Peter so upset.

"Oh, he'll be perfectly fine," Peter snapped. "Until his mistress hears about it. He's forbidden from seeing Master Hal, you know."

"No, I didn't."

Peter kept walking, and Jensen kept following, fascinated by his words. They darted through the crowd gathering, Jensen moving quickly to keep up with Peter's angry pace.  "Hal was his first master. He kept Misha as a tavern boy, used by half the city every night. The auctions. . ." Peter waved his hand at the stage, a long wooden structure with a path that led back to the tavern. A row of stocks, holes large enough for hand and hands, lined the very front, and Jensen imagined the waiting subs would be placed there. "You could purchase a tavern sub for an hour, a night, sometimes as long as a week."

"And Duchess Claudia bought him for one of those terms?" Jensen guessed.

They had come to the area where the trams had left them, and Peter put his hand against a tall marked pillar, presumably to summon one. "Yes. It was during a Choosing, like now. I was still in training myself, when it happened. She wanted to keep him, and at first Master Hal would not let Misha out of his contract."

"Ah." Jensen nodded, the situation more clear now.

"Mother had to intervene. Hal couldn't keep Misha if he wanted to go."

"Because red bands can be released at any time," Jensen said, glad his knowledge was becoming more useful.

"He's going to ruin everything he's hoped for," Peter cried, his hands clenching into fists. "How could he just throw that away? She loves him, Jensen, she's everything a good master should be."

A tram slowly hovered down, the doors opening to let throngs of people out, presumably to catch the auction. Jensen put his hand on the small of Peter's back, trying to give some form of comfort. "I just hope he knows what he's doing," Jensen murmured as they got in, the only ones actually leaving the square. He stared out the large windows, not wanting to sit or kneel, his balls had started to ache from the waxing and his ass still throbbed. But Jensen put his body's discomfort aside, too worried for Misha and for whatever Jeff had waiting for them.


	13. Chapter 13

Commander Brown called everyone together, pulling all the techs off their tasks, and even the scientists out of digging in the old colony to meet at base camp. Maggie had grumbled to Lieutenant Chikezie, both of them caught up in reading the diary logs of Harmony Ventura. Maggie had closed the screen down when Whitfield came to get them, blushing furiously at the erotic nature of the entry they were reading.

"Don't know what you ladies were looking at," Whitfield whistled. "But we've got an all-call. C'mon."

Maggie made a mental note to report the contents of the diary to the commander; the information they'd found was too valuable for the archaeological team not to know. She wondered if maybe she had found the basis for the entire society in the city. It was, after all, named after the girl.

Brown stood on an elevated platform, waiting as all the teams gathered around. "I know I could've done this via comm, but I wanted to look you all in the eye as I said it." At those ominous words, Maggie's stomach dropped, all thoughts of the diary out of her mind. "There's a Confed ship on its way out here."

Gasps and whispers sprang out among the crowd of soldiers and scientists. Maggie turned to Chikezie and mouthed "What?"

"The Mercury can take 'em!" Whitfield shouted from behind them and the rest of the crowd cried out with him.

Brown held out his hand for silence. "It's not gonna be that simple. Their commandant is talking about an old treaty, how they've got equal rights to explore out here. He asked for information sharing. So this is what we're gonna do. You're all gonna make scrubbed records to hand over. Give them enough to be interesting, but take out anything really important."

"What about the ship's logs?" Maggie shouted. They couldn't scrub all of those, there simply wasn't enough time, and they hadn't even gotten through them all yet.

"As far as they're concerned, Corporal, our tech won't talk to the ancient tech, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Maggie replied.

"Commander, what about the city?" Chikezie called out. "Why should they care about us when the energy readings for Harmony are through the roof?"

Brown took a deep breath and for the first time Maggie realized how tired he looked. She couldn't imagine being in command when a situation like this came up. "We're gonna have to let the citizens of Harmony take care of that."

And the whispers turned into shouts.

***

Jeff paced the length of the sitting room, his stomach in knots as he waited for Jensen to arrive. Should never have let him go, a smaller, darker part of his mind whispers. Without Jensen at his side, he felt unprepared, that guidance he had looked for this entire mission simply gone. Jensen wasn't safely in the infirmary this time, he was out there, in that huge city, with no protection at all.

He had to remind himself that Jensen was a fully trained soldier, that he'd had Jeff on the ground twice the one time they'd sparred together. Hell, Jensen had even been deep undercover in Confed territory. Jeff had no reason to think anything had happened to him. But the panic that had started in his chest at the captain's words hadn't faded, and Jeff knew he wouldn't be able to relax until Jensen showed up.

Jeff pulled out his comm, about to plug in Jensen's signal again, when he heard a sound outside on the balcony. The glass doors opened to reveal Jensen and Peter, both looking perfectly well. Jensen met his eyes, and then gestured over to Peter, rightfully concerned that they couldn't speak plainly in front of him. Wait a moment.

"Where's Misha?" Jeff asked.

"He stayed behind," Jensen said.

"Alone? Is that allowed?" Jeff wondered out loud.

The expression on Peter's face could kill puppies. "He is breaking rules." His shoulders sagged.  "But there is nothing I can do about it. I don't even need to speak to Mistress Claudia, she'll see for herself soon enough."

Jeff frowned, confused, but at Jensen's shake of his head he knew he'd get the explanation later.

"What's happened?" Jensen asked, softly.

"There's a Confed ship on its way here." Screw it, Jeff thought, it wasn't worth throwing Peter out to tell Jensen this. "It'll be in orbit by tomorrow morning."

Jensen's eyes widened. "What?"

"The captain got a hail from a Commandant Coleman. There's some ancient obscure treaty, probably written around the time of the wormhole collapse, that promises joint relations in exploration of deep space."

"Long before the war," Jensen murmured. Although even the war wasn't without its agreements and accords that lasted up until one side or the other violated them. "So they want to see what we're so interested in."

"We've led them right here," Jeff burst out, slamming his fist against one hand.

"Peter." Jensen turned to the other sub. "Does this city have any defense weapons?"

It was a good call, Peter, in his former life, just might know exactly what Harmony was capable of. Peter blinked at him. "I don't . . . what's going on? I don't understand."

"Do you remember," Jensen started, eyes now only for Peter, "when I told you about my parents? How they were murdered by the Confederation in an act against civilian targets?"

Just when the hell had Jensen told Peter that? Jeff threw his mind back, remembering all the time Jensen had spent with the other sub in the guise of learning more about Harmony. He could feel the green-eyed monster rising again, and Jeff pushed the feeling down hard. He didn't own Jensen, not really, no matter that the man wore a collar belying that fact.

At Peter's nod, Jensen continued. "The ship on its way here belongs to the same faction that killed my parents. They're responsible for countless deaths; their society is based on slavery, true slavery. And I'm not sure the Mercury - our ship - could defeat them in a fair fight. Not without help."

Peter paled, and Jeff wondered if he'd understood a fraction of that. "You need to speak to my mother."

Jeff looked at Jensen, wondering if they could get in to see the queen without being summoned. Jensen nodded at him, squaring his shoulder back and looking ready for war. Well, it was time to bring that war here to Harmony. Jeff should have known he couldn't have escaped it for long.

***

"I don't understand," Queen Michelle said. They had interrupted her, not expecting company she sat straight in her armchair, her soft robe tied around her waist, her long blond hair free and tumbling down her shoulders in loose curls. Fredric knelt at her side, but he lacked his usual impeccable mien, dressed in worn sleep pants, his eyes kept drifting to where Peter stood behind Jeff and Jensen.

Jensen knew they had been allowed access to these private quarters without an appointment because of Peter, who had pushed past all the guards and called them all by name. He was grateful for the other sub's support, and part of him missed having Misha with them, Jensen had grown used to their little trio.

"These people who are coming," the queen continued, "they are your enemies. Not ours."

This, Jensen thought, this could ruin everything they'd worked for. Every action he and Jeff had taken, each painstaking decision, could be undone in this very moment, by the very forces Jensen had been fighting against his entire life. Damn it, he could not let them win.

"They won't simply attack you," Jeff said. He held himself straight, though Jensen imagined he could see a tremble in Jeff's fingers from where he knelt. Belatedly, he'd remembered Jeff had told him the Confed had killed his wife. Jensen couldn't imagine that, finding his person to love and then losing them so quickly. "They'll come and pretend to be your friends first."

"Like you did?" Michelle said, one eyebrow raised.

Jeff shook his head. "No. We are nothing like. . ." he took a breath, regaining his composure as he continued. "When you took my men, I accepted your challenge, I came back and I proved myself worthy. They would have smiled and then dropped a bomb on your city."

"I highly doubt that, Commander."

"I can't blame you, you've never had to deal with something like this," Jeff said, his voice now completely back under his control. "Jensen and I, we've both lost people we've loved to the Confed. I don't know anyone who hasn't."

"They killed my parents and my sister. And the only grandparents I'd ever known," Jensen spoke up in the silence after Jeff's comment. "They weren't soldiers, they were just unlucky enough to be on the station that the Confed destroyed to prove that they could. That no one in UP space was safe."

He still remembered the day that changed his life with vivid clarity. His parents and Meggie, young sweet Meggie, had gone to the lunar station to pick up Jared's grandparents, the only biological family Jared had had left. Jensen and Jared had been at school, called into assembly when the announcement was made. He'd torn his way through the other students, desperate to reach Jared, his little brother's eyes red with tears. Both of them had been orphaned in a moment.

"They killed my wife," Jeff whispered. Jensen pressed himself up against him, hoping to give whatever comfort he could. He wanted to take Jeff in his arms, stroke his hair, tell him that Jensen would take care of things now.

Jeff's voice grew stronger as he spoke. "You have no word for it here. My wife. Bound to me like one of your subs for a lifetime. It had been years after her planet had joined the UP - our side - instead of theirs. Years before the Confed took their revenge and killed them all."

Jensen drew himself to his feet, taking a moment to brush his fingers against Jeff's, hoping the older man would understand he couldn't offer more just now. "Please, Mistress. We proved ourselves to you once. Can you not trust us in this?"

Michelle drew herself to her feet and began to pace the sitting room, deep in thought. Jensen didn't envy her, the well-being of everyone in her city depended on her actions now.

"What do you suggest I do?" she asked, sounding more curious than anything. She had paused, staring at the tournabout board on the end table. The lioness figure made its way into her hands and Michelle rolled the tiny silver piece between her fingers.

"Does the city have any defenses? I know you can close the wall to outsiders, but is there anything to protect it from an attack from above? If you refuse the Confed entry, I'm afraid that would be their next step," Jeff said.

"You don't advocate negotiating with them first?"

"When the Confed takes over a planet," Jensen said, speaking from experience, having seen it more than once in the field. "They take the children first and sell them into slavery because they know the parents will agree to anything in order to get them back. Those are the people you would be negotiating with."

At Jensen's words, Fredric stood, and stared at Michelle. "My mistress," he said, his voice hoarse. "You must call on Harmony. You must."

Jensen had never seen Fredric speak so much in front of others. Even Peter seemed taken aback, his mouth opened as he inhaled sharply.

"Fredric, you know I need. . ."

Fredric tilted his head in Jensen and Jeff's direction. "Have they not proved themselves worthy? Do you not think he honors Harmony with his every breath, even if he doesn't truly understand? And he is the only one who truly understands the threat we face."

Jensen blinked, lost in the conversation. He hadn't felt this confused since his first day in the city, when he hadn't known how to act or speak. What could they possibly mean?

Michelle nodded at Fredric and turned. "Sub Jensen, will you come?"

"I, uh, what?" Jensen sputtered.

"It is said Harmony cannot refuse a petition from a worthy sub," Fredric spoke up.

"And you think. . ." Jensen trailed off. If this were what it took to ensure the safety of the city, he'd have to do it. He looked over at Jeff.

"I won't order you to," Jeff said softly.

Jensen knew he had to make this decision on his own, but how could he, when he didn't even know what they wanted of him? But how could he say no, if he was the only one who could do it? "You really think I'm worthy?" he asked Sub Fredric.

Fredric bowed in his direction. "Trust yourself," he said.

Well, with that ringing endorsement, Jensen turned to Michelle. "All right. I'll do it. Whatever it is."

She gave him a sad smile. "Follow me. Commander Morgan, you may wait here with Fredric. Make yourselves comfortable, this may take all night."

Jensen didn't exactly like the sound of that, he pictured himself on his knees, praying all night like some of the religious nuts in the Confed, certain an invisible being was listening to all their chanting and humming. He'd stopped believing in any sort of god when his family had died.

So he was surprised when after traveling down a small lift behind the queen's sitting room, they finally reached their destination, one that hadn't even been marked by a door. They stepped out into was looked to Jensen just like a damned control room.

Screens ringed the room, images of the city flickering to life as they entered. A single chair sat in the middle of the room, and Michelle moved to sit into it, placing her hands on the armrests. The material of the air shimmered and then her arms were covered to the elbow, attached to the chair like some sort of cyborg.

"The ruler of the city, be she queen or king," Michelle explained, "is the only one to know of this room. Only she may beg Harmony to directly intervene in our fate. But without a worthy sub present, Harmony may ignore any request, no matter how dire. She was a sub herself, you see." Michelle gave him a sad smile.

"What should I do?" Jensen asked.

"Kneel," she said. "If she accepts you, you will know."

This place is so strange, he thought, sinking carefully to his knees. He felt so weary, his entire body weighed down with the events of the long day. He had to keep it together, had to fight to stay alert long enough to complete his task. The lives of everyone in Harmony depended on it.

Jensen felt something around his legs, then as if he were sinking. Black spots appeared before his eyes and as he tumbled over, he wondered if it was his sacrifice that was demanded after all.

***

When Jensen opened his eyes, green surrounded him, and he sat up, realizing he was in the same grassy field where he had first dreamt of a girl named Harmony. Oh, he thought, how could he have been so stupid? She had tried reaching out to him first. He pushed himself to his feet and looked around, not seeing her.

Then, she faded in slowly, like an old 2D movie, sitting on a blanket, a bundle of flowers on her lap. Jensen crouched in front of her, not knowing what to say, if he should let her speak first.

"He used to bring me flowers," she said, braiding the stems together. "And I would make rope out of them, so he could bind me, tie me to my bed that night. Of course I could break free easily, but the trick was to not break the ropes, to not struggle. And sometimes that was more difficult than being under his whip. Do you understand?"

Jensen rested his wrists on his thighs. "I do." She spoke about submission, about giving yourself over to someone, having the strength to obey when all you wanted to do was struggle.

"When I lost my master, I thought I had lost the world. And then I gained another."

At first Jensen thought she had merely gained another master. Then the world around them shifted, the tall green grass of the meadow disappearing to make way for the same forest, only hidden beneath several feet of snow. He could see a figure struggling against the wind, though Jensen himself didn't feel the cold, didn't feel much of anything really. He could only watch as the figure stumbled to its knees, head dropping as the sound of muffled sobs touched his ears.

Somehow he'd shifted now, till he was right beside the figure and could see the young woman huddled inside a tattered old cloak. Her face was pale, lips blue-white, the tears freezing as they fell. Clearly she'd been out here for some time, and if she didn't find shelter soon, Jensen didn't know how long she could survive.

Then something shimmered before them both, a column of rippling metal like everything that made up the city. However, this column looked different from the towers and buildings Jensen had seen before. It was alien and yet more organic, looking more like a tree with rippling roots than anything else.

The girl, and only now did Jensen realize it was Harmony, reached out with one hand and touched the column. "It's you," she whispered, words slurred from the cold. "From my dreams."

Her fingers sunk into the glittering metal, and she pulled away for just a moment. Then, nodding to herself, the young Harmony stepped forward and became part of the column, the gold melting around her, molding and becoming something more.

Jensen blinked and they were back in the green meadow, all traces of snow and the past gone. He felt understanding was just out of his reach, that he should know why she'd shown him this, but Jensen couldn't put his finger on it just yet.

The Harmony that stood before him now shook her head, and then finally looked at him. Now he could see her truly, large blue eyes, red curls like a halo around her head, lips that were meant to beg. "You have a request for me?"

Jensen swallowed and wondered if he was up for this task. "But you should know," he blurted, realizing that Harmony was the city. She'd merged with it, become something more long ago. Everything in these walls, she must know of.

"I," she placed her hand on her chest, "Can't be everywhere, though my consciousness echoes throughout the city. I know what you need because I have been listening to you, Jensen."

He could feel the blush rising in his cheeks, even in a dream. "Oh," he said. "Then what will you do?"

"I will need your help, your knowledge of the way things work out there. How your technology differs from mine."

"You have it," Jensen offered, ready to answer any question she might ask.

"And then I will hide the city. Make it seem as if we simply were not here. I'd much rather that than bloodshed and murder, Jensen. Do you understand? Though I could defend myself like that, I won't."

Someone had to be the better person, he thought, half-hysterically. "Just keep everyone safe. Keep Jeff safe." And Peter and Misha and Claudia and little Colin and everyone whom Jensen had grown to care about during his time here.

"I accept your sacrifice," she murmured, reaching out with one hand to touch the side of his face.

And everything went black once more.

***

Jeff tried to sit, to wait like a patient man while the queen had taken Jensen away. Sub Fredric had even suggested a game of tournabout and offered Jeff some of that hot tye everyone always drank. He'd wished it had been whiskey instead. While Fredric and his son played the odd little board game, Jeff paced, not even noticing the details of the sitting room, too caught up in worrying what might be happening right that moment.

It felt like hours, and when he checked his comm he found it had been only one when the back door whispered open. "Commander Morgan, please, come," the queen cried, beckoning him.

Jeff leapt over the settee in his way and followed her, down the lift, to another room, where he found Jensen curled on his side, completely unconscious. He touched his finger to Jensen's neck, grateful to find a pulse, and that the other man was still breathing. "What the hell happened?"

"Harmony will help us," Michelle said. For the first time she'd lost that perfect mask, her voice frantic, her face stained with tears. "She will hide the city, so your Confed cannot find us. But she needs him to help."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jeff growled.

"Take him to the Healers'," she told him. "Harmony promised he will awaken when he is no longer needed."

Once again Jeff found himself scooping Jensen up into his arms. However, he never again wanted to feel an unresponsive Jensen, who merely flopped in his embrace instead of curling against him, his face nuzzling against Jeff's jaw, seeking out the stubble he loved so much. Jeff promised himself, if they got through this, Jensen would never have to suffer again.


	14. Chapter 14

Maggie was on watch that night, though she had monitor duty instead of patrol like some of the others. So she was the first to see the city disappear, some time around two in the morning. Disappear was a misnomer, the energy readings that constantly hit the scanners suddenly diminished, leaving her with only the faint energy still coming from the Raleigh.

At first Maggie thought she'd accidentally reengaged her filtering program, the one that had enabled her to find the Raleigh in the first place. But when she double-checked her settings, she saw that it wasn't even running.

Maggie picked up her comm. "Monitor watch to patrol."

"Whitfield here. How'd you swing monitor duty, Gyllenhaal?"

"Insomnia," she replied. "Listen, something's weird with my scanners. Do you have visual of the city?"

"Should have it in about 20 meters, once I clear this set of trees. Hold on."

Maggie waited, tapping her fingers against the keyboard. She ran another diagnostic, but couldn't see anything wrong with the sensors. Of course, if the satellite parts themselves were damaged, she'd have to climb the shuttle to find out.

"Gyllenhaal," Whitfield's voice came back. "Do me a favor and triangulate my position."

Maggie pulled up the terrain map. "You're just outside the city gate, Lieutenant."

Static crackled over the line. "Sending you my visual now, there's no fucking city there, Corporal."

"What?" Maggie gasped. Whitfield's visual displayed across her screen, showing instead of the city, more trees and a steeply sloped hill. "Send me your local sensor info."

She checked, and then checked again, there was absolutely no sign of Harmony ever being there. "Gonna report in to Brown, keep your position, Whitfield."

Maggie knew Commander Brown was scheduled to be sleeping right now, but she called up his comm anyway, hoping he still had it nearby. After a few moments of silence, she finally heard a groggy, "This had better be good, Corporal."

"Sir," Maggie began. "The city has disappeared. It's no longer on my sensors and Lieutenant Whitfield has given visual confirmation."

More silence. Maggie felt compelled to prod, "Sir?"

"Damn it Morgan, what the hell have you done?" Brown murmured, and Maggie was surprised the comm had picked it up. "Tell the patrol to ignore the city, everyone pull back to the ship, the base and the original colony. We're gonna pretend there is no city. No use having questions being asked about why we're patrolling that area."

"Yes, sir." Maggie made a mental note to scrub the former patrol trail from their data as well. She felt like ants crawled under her skin, apprehensive about what tomorrow might bring. One thing was certain, they were not going to make it easy for the Confed, no matter when they showed up.

***

This was it, show time, Loretta thought, watching the sensor array as the Confed ship came into range. She made sure to get a good night's sleep - with some help from the doc - because she had to be fresh this morning, she had to have all her wits about her. This Commandant Coleman seemed like one slick character, and she would not let him one-up her.

"Should we hail them?" Harris said to her, sotto voice.

Loretta gave him a look. What the hell was with the whispering, when everyone on the damn bridge had their ears pointed this way? "No, they're so eager for assistance, they can damn well hail us. Let them think we don't give a crap about them floating out there." She turned to Ensign Smith. "Any word on reinforcements?"

"Still a week away, Captain."

"Damn it." She gave in to the impulse to pace, going over the threads of the treaty in her mind. Brown had reported in, told her about the mystery of the missing city. He had tried to comm Morgan and Ackles, but neither had responded, and their comms weren't showing up on the ship's locating sensors. Whatever they had done, they had done damn well, and Loretta was proud of them, she just wished she had been informed beforehand.

"Incoming hail from the Discovery," Smith caught her attention.

She held up her hand, telling him to wait, as she leisurely walked to the center of the bridge. Harris stood beside her, and they faced the screen. "Now."

Smith put the connection through and Loretta saw her adversary for the first time. Coleman had a serious looking face with some impressive mobile eyebrows. His smile didn't reach those eyes, and it put her on guard. "Good morning, Commandant," she said sweetly. "I hope you had a pleasant trip."

"Thank you, Captain, we did." He seemed just as willing to play the game as she.

"I took the opportunity to review the terms of the Hanburg treaty," she said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "It's not a thing that comes up frequently, you understand."

"Of course, Captain."

"So your escorts will meet you as soon as your shuttle touches down," she said.

"Escorts?"

"Article III, chapter 7." She smiled. "The team that arrives second on a site will be shown around by the first. This way everyone can work together nicely."

He inclined his head, giving this round to her. "I look forward to meeting with your people."

"I'll send over the coordinates. Pleasant day, Commandant."  Loretta lifted her hand and Smith cut the connection. Some days it was good to be the captain.

***

Jeff found himself sitting vigil beside Jensen's bedside in the infirmary. He hadn't slept at all, even after the healer's subs brought in a second bed for him. Jensen remained still, though the healer – Jeff couldn't recall her name at the moment – assured him everything was well, Jensen's vitals were strong and stable. But still he slept on.

He leaned forward in his chair, placing one hand over Jensen's, reassured to feel the warm skin beneath his. Jensen had made this choice, but Jeff blamed himself, knowing how self-sacrificing the other man was. For the first time, Jeff realized that though Jensen might shrug off what he had to do with his body for the sake of the UP, it still took a toll on the younger man. This was just the more evident example, but Jeff wondered how it would be, to fuck on order. How could you separate that from sleeping with someone because you wanted to?

He'd said from the beginning that it wasn't any hardship to sleep with Jensen, the man was fucking gorgeous, and he was an expert in bed. But for the first time, Jeff wondered at the possibility of something more. He hadn't thought about it, not since Katie, not since he'd gone into that bar drunk off his ass and looking to get laid, anything to forget the pain of losing her. Now, looking at Jensen, lying so still, Jeff felt that familiar lump in his gut, worried about losing someone else that he cared for.

"Jeff," a soft voice said.

He looked up at Claudia who stood in the doorway dressed very simply in trousers and tunic, her hair pulled back, and her eyes red-rimmed. "Duchess." He corrected himself. "Claudia. Please come in." Jensen would be happy she'd come.

"What happened?" she asked, moving to sit beside Jeff. She touched her hand to Jensen's forehead, stroking the skin gently.

"Harmony asked it of him," Jeff repeated the queen's words, though he still didn't know what that meant. "Did she tell you about the Confed? About the danger we're all in?" And that Jensen could be the only one to save them.

"Briefly, in passing," Claudia said softly. "I was up all night with my own difficulties."

For the first time Jeff noticed the dark circles around her red-rimmed eyes. He knew she cared for Jensen, but not to that extant. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "You have your own burden."

"Claudia," he said. "Trust me, it'll take my mind off of things."

"It's not nearly in the same league." Claudia sat back, but she continued to watch Jensen as she spoke, as if it were easier to speak to him in his coma than to face Jeff. "Misha did not come home last night. I had to search for him, and found him with his previous master."

"Ouch," Jeff muttered.

"Of course I asked him if he wished to sever our contract. I will not suffer such disobedience, but if he wanted to leave . . ." She paused. "I would not make him stay if he were unhappy."

Jeff noted the lack of Misha by her side and feared for the worst. "What did he say?"

She gave him a weak smile. "He said of course he didn't want to sever our contract."

"Well, that's good, right? I mean, you don't want to sever the contract either."

"No." Claudia looked down at her hands. "But now I'll have to punish him. In all the years he's been in my care, he's never disobeyed so thoroughly. So the punishment must match."

Poor Misha, Jeff thought, it sounded as if the sub was in for a rough time.

"I don't even know where to begin." She shook her head.

"You'll figure it out," Jeff told her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his weight, and he swallowed. They'd get through this, they both would.

***

They all had their parts to play, and Maggie's part was in the bridge of the Raleigh, just waiting for the Confed soldiers to show up. She wasn't alone, Whitfield and Chikezie were with her, along with some other muscle in case things went FUBAR fast.

Commander Brown had been there to greet the contingent when they showed up, one shuttle with several five-person teams. Maggie had watched through the monitors in the ship, patched through the comm system. She'd have to rapidly undo the wiring when the tours of the ship started, but she and the other crew wanted to see this.

The Confed shuttle was smaller than theirs, curved like a pill instead of long and sleek. Then again, it didn't seem made to convert into a base, looking like nothing more than an airbus shuttle. The man who greeted Brown introduced himself as Commandant Coleman.

"Welcome to our operation, Commandant." Brown shook hands with the man. Maggie had to give it to Brown, there was no sign of his hatred for the Confed on his face. "I'm told you're interested in what we've discovered here."

"That's our primary goal," Coleman smiled. "Exploration and knowledge."

"I'm curious then, why you started with this planet. There are dozens in this area of space that can support human life."

"Well, you seem very interested in it. How long has your ship been surrounding this planet? Nearly a month, Commander?" Coleman gave it right back to Brown.

The rest of the crew in the bridge of the Raleigh booed. Maggie covered her lips to avoid giggling, it was like watching a soap opera.

"Well, we've discovered a relic of a ship and an old colony here. Any trace of life is long gone of course," Brown lied smoothly. "But our archaeologists are having a field day with the colony."

The smile may have dimmed a bit from Coleman's face. "Then you don't mind if we take a look around?"

"I have several tours arranged, Commandant, just to get you situated of course. I assume you'll have your own base of operations. Our archaeologist, Dr. Shanks is very eager to show you his recent discovery. Apparently it's very important."

Coleman split his team up, leaving a group of ten to stay with the shuttle. He, along with four others, followed Brown and Shanks to the old colony. "What's this amazing discovery, Dr. Shanks?"

Dr. Shanks turned around and grinned. "The sewage system of the orig . . . old colony. It's absolutely amazing what they were able to build. And by sifting through the fossilized feces, we'll be able to tell exactly what these people ate!"

Coleman looked green. "Oh, fascinating."

"Score one for us," Whitfield said. The rest of the crew seemed to agree.

"You'd better undo the feed, Corporal," Chikezie said. "It won't be long until the first group is here."

Maggie nodded and ripped out the wiring. The ship wouldn't speak to their tech, and they had to give that appearance. She replaced the image on the monitor with the standard diagnostic screen, to make it look as if they were just learning more about the ship.

"I wish we could scare the shit out of them," Whitfield muttered. "In a totally innocent way. Like, oh, sorry Commandant, didn't anyone tell you about the giant alligators?"

As far as Maggie knew there weren't any giant alligators. "Or, oh the engine rooms are still slightly radioactive, don't mind them."

Whitfield's head popped up at her words. "Hey, Gyllenhaal, you think you can replicate the explosion? Shields up from the beginning, of course, don't want anyone to get hurt, really."

"Just bruised a little bit?"

Maggie shook her head. "I'm not doing it if people are in the engine rooms."

Whitfield tapped the monitor. "They're clear. Brown doesn't want the Confed to know we've found them yet, don't want them to see how we hooked up the modified power supply. As far as they're concerned, we're still operating on the ship's power."

"I believe Commander Brown said he'd bring them here first, then we'd show them around," Chikezie put in.

Maggie glared at her. "I can't believe you of all people are supporting this idea."

Chikezie looked away. "I lost family in the Toscon raid. Trust me, scaring some Confed assholes is the least I want to do to them. The only reason we aren't shooting first is because the Mercury was built for speed, not war."

"They won't make that mistake again," Whitfield put in.

"All right." Maggie took a deep breath. "I'll do it."

"That's my girl," Whitfield said.

"Technician," Maggie corrected, sliding into the engineer's seat, in front of the control panel for the entire engine system. The last thing she wanted to do was destroy another engine room after losing the first in the explosion; they were too valuable to lose. But, Maggie realized by pumping enough gas into the original room, which was filled with nothing more than burnt husks of panels, and then igniting it, she'd exactly duplicate the explosion and not destroy any more property in the process. Maggie put the force fields in place first, and then grinned. She couldn't wait for the Confed to show up.

The wait turned out to be longer than any of them expected, to the point where they had to break out their MRE's and eat lunch. Now that they had committed to this course of action Maggie felt herself get antsy to see it through.  Wasn't that the story of her life in the Corps though? Hurry up and wait?

"Shanks must be giving them the long tour of the sewers," Whitfield grumbled.

Shortly afterwards, they got the call from Brown. "Look alive people, we're almost there."

"Remember we don't know who they are," Chikezie hissed. Right, they shouldn't have been watching on the monitors.

So when Brown came in the room, trailed by his five Confed 'guests' they all nodded as he introduced Commandant Coleman and the others. Maggie thought their uniforms so odd, and rather impractical for this type of mission with all the belts, straps and buckles. One of the women was even wearing a skirt, of all things, along with knee-high boots. Maggie hoped she'd had fun in the sewers.

"Fascinating," Coleman was talking about the ship. "You know this ship predates the UP/Confed conflict."

"Conflict," Chikezie murmured under her breath and Maggie winced.

"I think it even predates those designations," one of the Confed women piped up, a Patroller MacKenzie, if Maggie got those ranks right.

"As you can see, we've been busy working on deciphering the ship's schematics. Their power system is completely foreign to us," Brown put in.

Maggie took that as her cue, and subtly nudged the proper knob on her control panel. The lights in the bridge dimmed, and the red alert alarm began to chime.

"What the hell is that? Corporal, report," Brown shouted.

She hated that they were deceiving him, and belatedly Maggie realized she might have to worry about court martial for this kind of thing. Well, she couldn't undo it now. "Sir, we have a power buildup, from the schema it seems to be coming from Engine Room one."

"A power buildup. Engine room one," Brown repeated, his eyes narrowing. He clued in really quick. "I thought there wasn't much juice left in the old girl."

"We must have missed it," Maggie said. "Remember these old ships still used nuclear power. Might have a radiation containment issue."

"Radiation?" Coleman repeated, his face going white.

"See if you can shield the room, Corporal." Brown came to stand behind her. He squeezed her shoulder tightly, as if in warning.

"Force fields are in place, sir. I estimate power overflow in 30 seconds." And she hit the button to ignite the gas.

"Everyone, hit the deck!" Brown shouted.

Maggie got out of her seat and braced herself, holding the back of it to avoid being thrown when the explosion happened. Around the bridge, everyone was doing the same, except for the Confeds, who looked absolutely clueless. Within seconds, the explosion rippled through the ship, rocking the bridge to one side, the Confeds slamming against the opposite wall. Maggie bit her lip hard to keep from laughing, the blood that resulted would only be a bonus.

As the ship stabilized, Brown pushed himself to his feet. "Everyone all right?"

Some of the Confeds were bleeding. Chikezie walked over to them with her medkit, pulling out some sterile gauze to sop up the blood.

"Ouch!" Maggie heard from across the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry, does that hurt?" Chikezie said in that ever so polite accent of hers.

No one else reported any injuries, although Maggie was sure she had a few new bruises. Whitfield stood and said, "Sir, I recommend evacuation as the wisest course of action, at least until we can check the radiation levels."

Brown nodded. "Everyone get out of here, proceed immediately to the mobile infirmary at base camp. I want you all checked for possible radiation exposure. Go!"

Maggie picked up her kit and followed the rest of the crew out. On the way Brown made eye contact and mouthed 'later.' She knew she was in so much trouble. Somehow, she really didn't care. They needed to get the Confed off their planet, and anything she could do to help, she would.

While most of the Confed soldiers were busy getting checked out in the infirmary, Brown pulled her away from the group, far enough not to be overhead. "Corporal, what the hell was that?"

"Gas explosion in Engine Room one, sir," she replied, rubbing her sweaty palms against her coverall.

"And what exactly made you think that was a good idea?"

"It was my idea, sir," Whifield and Chikezie came up from behind Maggie, she hadn't heard them, but Brown didn't look surprised to see them. "Thought it would scare those Confed assholes good."

"And I ordered her to do it," Chikezie put in, taking full blame for the entire situation.

Maggie knew the surprise was obvious in her face. She couldn't believe Lieutenant Chikezie would take all the blame like that. She wasn't the only one, the rest of the crew in the bridge had wanted to do it as well, but by saying she'd ordered Maggie, Chikezie would take all of the fallout.

Brown sighed. "Well, your damn fool plan succeeded, I swear Coleman nearly shit his pants when you said radiation leak."

Maggie exchanged looked with Whitfield and Chikezie, surprised at his reception. Maybe this wouldn't be a total clusterfuck at all.

"But if any of you ever pull a stunt like that without my approval they won't be able to find the bodies. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

"Any other bright ideas abound that I should know about?"

"No, sir," Chikezie and Whitfield replied.

At her silence, everyone looked over at Maggie. "Well," she said, "I think I might be able to tap into the comm system on the Confed shuttle, so we can listen to their private conversations without them knowing." She hadn't wanted to say anything, but when she saw the model of the comm that Coleman wore on his waist - one the UP quit using this year - she knew she could exploit that vulnerability. Maggie just didn't think she could actually get permission for it.

"Do it Corporal," Brown said. "And Gyllenhaal," he called as she turned to get back to her kit. "Keep up the good work."

Later that night the group of them gathered around Maggie's set up in the base camp, the shuttle door closed so as not to risk any accidental eavesdropping. Commander Brown was the lone interloper, which kept Whitfield on his best behavior, though Maggie found she missed his normal snarky attitude.

"There are several conversations going on at a time," Maggie explained. The Confeds were spending the night, bunking down in their shuttle. They had their own watch, walking the perimeter of both camps. She'd intercepted much of their communication. "I thought I'd limit it to the Commandant, since he'd be making most of the decisions."

Brown nodded. "Good idea, Corporal. Let it rip."

Maggie hit the volume button, so they could all hear the audio. She did make sure to record all the other conversations, they could be useful as well.

Several hours passed before they finally got the information they wanted to hear. Maggie looked over at the chrono display, it was past two in the morning. No wonder she was so tired.

"Officer Panetierre, this is Coleman, report."

"I've found absolutely nothing, sir," a young female voice replied. "I'm ankle deep in shit and there's nothing here. No weird energy signatures, no sign of any advanced technology. It's just old crap."

"Do one last scan and then head back to camp," Coleman told her. "Patroller MacKenzie, report."

"I downloaded all the logs from this bucket of bolts," another female voice replied.

Maggie started at that, feeling a bit protective of the Raleigh and annoyed that the Confed had been able to access the ship's logs.

"Anything we can use?"

"Commandant, it's three hundred years old. I'm amazed it hasn't rotted away by now. There are plants growing all in the exhausts for the engine, it'll never fly again."

"So why the hell are they so interested in it?"

"Did you hear that guy go on about shit for two hours? I think they honestly care about history," the girl all but sneered.

"Fine. Coleman out." There was a bit of a pause before he made another call. "Coleman to Rose."

"Go ahead, Commandant," an older voice replied.

"We've found zilch. Even the soil samples tested negative for any worthwhile resource. Any luck scanning the rest of the planet?"

"The only energy readings are coming from your location."

"And that's coming from a three hundred year old ship. I can't imagine what they're getting from that." He sighed into the mic. "Be prepared to depart in the morning.  I'll make some excuse to leave. There's no point in staying here. We have the ship logs, if there's anything of use, we can come back, with reinforcements if need be."   
"Yes, sir."

Maggie looked up from the panel, thrilled that the Confed were actually leaving. But she also felt hollow, angry that they had stolen copies of the Raleigh's data. What if something in there gave away any information about the city?

"Keep recording, Corporal," Brown nodded, "But go and get some sleep. We'll deal with them in the morning."

"Yes, sir."


	15. Chapter 15

Loretta couldn't imagine a more nerve racking 24 hours. She had paced the length of her bridge until even she couldn't take it anymore. When Brown called with his report at an ungodly hour of the morning, she was grateful for the reprieve from the constant waiting. At least now she had a position of strength.

So when Coleman contacted her, she responded to him with sunshine and smiles. "I do hope my crew showed you everything. That old colony sure is fascinating. Have you seen the extensive sewer system?"

Coleman looked a little green. He shuffled a bit before responding. "Yes, they made sure to give us an up close and personal tour. Even though this is terribly fascinating, Captain, terribly, I assure you, I'm afraid I'll have to take my leave. Just got a request to return to Confed space as soon as possible. You know how it is."

"Oh? What a shame." Loretta all but batted her eyelashes at him. "I'm sure you could learn so much from that old colony."

"Ah, right." Coleman coughed. "Well, in a perfect universe. Good luck with your expedition, Captain."

"Why thank you." She gave the signal and Ensign Smith cut out the feed. Loretta sank into her chair. Damn Confed bastards. She took plenty of pleasure in watching them high tail it out of the area, although she knew it was only a temporary victory at best. The Confed would keep coming as long as the UP kept exploring this region of space. Well, they'd just have to be prepared for it, that's all.

"Harris," she said to her first officer. "Route all the reports to my personal comm code. I'll review them all in my cabin."

"Yes, sir," he said. "Do you want me to review them first and send my commentary with them?"

It would give her the chance to catch up on her sleep. "Go ahead, Commander." Loretta pushed herself up out of the chair, her body aching and weary from the long night. Before she could step foot off the bridge, the on-screen comm flickered and flashed. "Ensign Smith?"

"Not doing it, sir."

The picture formed into the shape of Lieutenant Ackles, but that shouldn't have been possible. "Captain Devine." His voice sounded wrong, distorted far more than just static would allow. "Has the Confed ship left this region of space?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," she answered, "but how are you. . .?"

"Do you have any reason to expect they'll be back soon?"

"Hopefully not for a while. Lieutenant!" she tried to interrupt again.

"Thank you." He closed his eyes and the picture winked out.

Loretta turned to Smith. "What the hell was that?"

"I have no idea, sir! It didn't come on any of the channels." Smith ran his hands over his panel urgently. "It's like he didn't even comm!"

Come to think of it, Loretta thought, Ackles had been wearing his red dress uniform, and she knew he hadn't taken one of those with him. What the hell was going on here?

"Sir," Ensign Levitt said. "The alien city Harmony has just showed up on our scans again."

"Son of a bitch," she muttered. Now that was a report she was looking forward to reading!

***

Jensen opened his eyes, blinking rapidly at the bright light. He looked around, not surprised to find himself in one of the healers' rooms. What did surprise him was the presence of Jeff, passed out over his bed, his head on Jensen's thigh.

"I'd say let him sleep, but he'd want to know you're awake."

Jensen looked up in shock at the doorway, where the queen stood. She hadn't come to the healers to visit her own son, as far as he knew, so why she was here now, he couldn't say. "What happened?" Jensen asked, his voice hoarse.

Michelle turned and snapped her fingers. Several subs entered the room, two had trays of food, which hovered when let go within Jensen's reach. Another offered Jensen some water from a cup, while yet another fluffed his pillows. The last woke Jeff, who sat up in mid-snore and looked around at all the confusion. Then he realized Jensen stared back at him.

"Jensen!"

Jensen winced a bit at the volume. "What happened?"

"You saved us all," Michelle said, still from the doorway. She clapped her hands and the subs scuttled from the room. "When you are well rested, come see me." The door slid shut behind her.

Jeff cupped Jensen's face in his hands, as if marveling at its existence. "Jensen," he said again, as if incapable of saying anything else. Then Jeff leaned forward and kissed him.

This felt unlike any kiss they had shared before, though still with the same level of intensity, Jensen didn't think Jeff knew how to kiss any other way. But this time, Jeff took his time, like he was exploring Jensen's mouth, memorizing the feel of him, the way his tongue slipped against his, how his lips trembled. Jeff pulled away only reluctantly when they both needed some air.

"What happened? Why am I at the healers?" Jensen asked.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Jensen shook his head, trying to remember. "I had gone with the queen to the command chamber. I think I went into a kind of trance state. Jeff, I spoke with Harmony; it turns out she's an actual person."

"You realize how little sense that makes," Jeff said, but his smile was fond.

"I know. She said she'd hide the city, so the Confed wouldn't find us, but she needed my help. I figured she'd need to know how our sensors all worked, but she never asked . . . Jeff what happened? Is the city safe?"

Jeff shrugged. "You've been unconscious for nearly two days. The queen said it was the sacrifice Harmony demanded."

"Yeah, I didn't expect this to make sense," Jensen grumbled. He looked at the enticing tray of food, pondering the effect on his stomach after a day of not eating.

"Jensen," Jeff said softly. "When you were out, in a coma, whatever, I didn't know if you were coming back."

The serious tone in his voice had Jensen turning away from any contemplation of food. "Stars, Jeff, I'm sorry."

"I can't do this anymore Jensen," Jeff said, his words causing a fissure of fear to run through Jensen. "I can't pretend that I don't care."

And Jensen had to touch him, had to reach out and lay his hand against Jeff's cheek, feel the deep stubble that had grown in during his vigil. "Now you know how I feel."

"Fuck, Jensen," Jeff sat back, running his fingers through his hair.

"I didn't know how to tell you," Jensen blurted. Now that he could speak, he found he couldn't stop. "When you said it was all for the mission, that's when I knew that it wasn't. But I couldn't explain it. I just, I gave you so much and I've never done that before . . ."

"I didn't think." Jeff shook his head. "How can you do this to yourself? Give your body away?"

"It never mattered before," Jensen whispered. And it hadn't, he could separate himself from what his body demanded, knew that his partner of the moment couldn't touch his soul, his heart. Somehow Jeff had gotten through all of his defenses. 

Maybe because the person he had been here in Harmony was the closest he'd ever been to his true self. They had rated him as a submissive back at the Academy and Jensen had used that to survive, subsuming himself into that nature, grinding at his very self. But Jeff hadn't broken Jensen down, he'd built him up, made Jensen want to give Jeff his submission as the gift it should be.

He was so screwed.

"Jensen," Jeff whispered. He grabbed Jensen by the shoulders and kissed him again. Jensen didn't blame him, he didn't know what to say either.

Because it wasn't like this could go anywhere. They had a mission to finish and afterwards? Jensen had obligations, as did Jeff, they couldn't hide from the realities of the war, and Jensen couldn't see beyond that.

Jeff's comm chimed and Jensen pulled away reluctantly, pouting a little as Jeff pulled it out.

"Morgan."

"Commander, what the hell is going on down there?" Captain Devine's voice came through the comm, sounding clearer than it ever had. "You've been off the radar for over 24 hours."

Jeff gave Jensen a little smile. This would take a while. Jensen pulled one of the trays over and started eating, he figured he might as well. He felt good, too good, all the aches and bruises from before talking to Harmony were gone. But he had to remember he'd lost a whole day when Harmony had used him for whatever she'd needed him for.

"I take it the Confed ship is out of the area?" Jeff responded.

Silence for a moment then,  "Didn't Ackles tell you? I got a message from him shortly before I commed you."

Jensen met Jeff's widened eyes. He couldn't have contacted the Captain, he'd been either unconscious or speaking with Jeff.

"Actually, Captain," Jeff sighed. "You're going to have to wait for my report on this. Is everyone all right?"

"More than fine. Your team sent the Confed running with their tails between their legs."

Jeff grinned. "I'm not surprised. I'll report in again during my usual time. Morgan out." He closed the comm. "Well, we're not that much closer to finding out how this tech works, are we?"

"We have more of a clue, at least." Jensen pushed down the covers, eager to get out of bed and do some walking. He realized his nudity at about the same time Jeff did and felt the blush all the way to the tips of his ears. "I need to go meet with the queen, but I think I need my pants."

Jeff laughed.

***

Jeff waited for Jensen in their suite, needing to get his thoughts down for the mission report while they were fresh. And because once Jensen got back from his meeting with the queen Jeff didn't want to waste any of their time together doing work. He considered himself a realist, he knew their time here was limited, the base agreement was nearly completed, and he and Jensen would be separated.

So when Jensen finally came through the shimmering door Jeff had been finished with his report for about an hour. He slammed Jensen up against the wall, pinning his with his body so he could devour his mouth, loving how Jensen tasted, like sugar and pepper, sweet and spicy. Jensen leaned back, baring his throat and Jeff mouthed all around the black collar, tasting the leather mixed with Jensen's skin. That mark of ownership had fascinated him from the beginning, and Jeff couldn't not play with it.

"Tell me about the meeting later," Jeff murmured in Jensen's ear before pulling away.

"Strip," he ordered. "I want you to go into the playroom and choose two items: one that causes pain, one that causes pleasure."

Jensen shivered slightly, his body flushed that rosy pink color Jeff liked so much. He was so responsive, Jeff grew sick at the thought of others seeing Jensen like this, so open and sensual.

"Yes, sir," Jensen said, his voice catching. He stripped with regimental speed, dropping his clothes in the laundry hamper before leaving the bedroom for the playroom.

Jeff knew they could have done this in there, but he wanted Jensen on a bed. Call him old-fashioned, but Jeff was still plenty fond of sex on an ordinary bed. While Jensen was gone he pulled off his own shirt and shoes, but left his pants on. He'd learned a thing or two about being a dom here on 328, and knew that by staying dressed he'd give more meaning to Jensen's nudity.

When Jensen returned he had two items in his hands. Before Jeff could say anything he dropped to his knees, bowed his head and held out both arms, offering the toys up to Jeff. In one hand he held a long slim stick, with a handle and a flick of leather at the tip; only belatedly did Jeff realize it was a riding crop. That would be sure to sting. The other item Jeff knew well, it was the curved dildo Claudia had ordered Jensen to sit on in their scene together, the one that came with a remote.

Well then, Jensen knew his mind.

"On the bed, on your back, spread your legs, hands on the headboard," Jeff ordered after taking the toys. He watched as Jensen obeyed, moving to the bed with his normal sensual grace, every muscle rippling to perfection. As he lay in position, Jeff just stared at him, enjoying the sight, how Jensen looked all spread out for him, his skin flushed dark against the pale sheets, his biceps straining to maintain the position, his chest rising and falling with soft breaths.

Jeff walked around the bed, looking his fill until he reached the head, where he simply touched the headboard and restraints shimmered around Jensen's wrists. Now he could get to work. First, some of the sweet smelling oil they used for lube here. It actually worked better than ordinary lube for some reason, and he made a mental note to put exporting the stuff as part of their trade agreement.

He took his time coating the dildo with the oil, conscious of Jensen's eyes on him. Jeff hadn't ordered his sub to prepare himself, so he knew Jensen was nice and tight inside. Every inch of the dildo sliding up inside him, Jensen would feel.

When Jeff placed the tip at Jensen's entrance, Jensen caught his breath. "Breathe," Jeff ordered, "And relax."

"Yes, sir," Jensen said, exhaling.

Just a teasing inch at first, even though Jeff knew Jensen could take more, Jeff slid in and then out, then in a little deeper, until Jensen squirmed against his restraints. "Keep those legs open," Jeff ordered; though he didn't bind Jensen's ankles, it would give him something to concentrate on. Finally, the vibrator slid in deep, seated fully inside the other man. Only then did Jeff take the control device and push it to its highest setting.

Jensen arched up, his hips rising in the air as he cried out at the sudden intense vibrations. He whimpered and shuddered, his cock swollen and thick against his belly, a trail of pre-come leaking all over pale freckled skin. Jeff leaned over and licked some of it up, careful not to touch Jensen's dick. Jensen made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, attempting to regain some control of himself and Jeff grinned. He had just begun.

Jeff trailed the tip of the crop along Jensen's skin, starting with his toes, tracing lines around his knees, circles across his belly and all the way up to Jensen's chin. By that time Jensen's breathing came in great hitching gasps, and he stared up at Jeff with wide eyes. Jeff smiled, unable to resist running a hand through Jensen's hair and pulling his head back. "I said one to bring you pleasure, one to bring you pain, but you should remember, I decide which is which."

"Yes, sir," Jensen choked out, his voice broken. He still trembled from the vibrator, helpless on the bed. Jeff had to let go of him to adjust himself, his cock a hard weight against his thigh. With Jensen looking like this, all fucked out and wanton, Jeff couldn't resist him.

Jeff smacked the inside of one thigh with the crop, leaving a red line in its wake, watching as Jensen's dick leapt at the action. He just had to whack the other thigh too, Jeff hated asymmetry, and admired the matching welt. "Beautiful," Jeff murmured, and Jensen bit his lip.

Deciding to ease up a bit, Jeff turned down the vibrator to a more manageable setting. He straddled Jensen's chest, and slowly undid the ties on his pants, feeling Jensen's eyes on him as Jeff freed his cock and stroked it, long careful strokes from base to tip.

"Please," Jensen murmured.

"Who do you belong to?" Jeff asked, his voice low instead of loud and commanding.

"You, sir," Jensen hissed. "I belong to you."

Jeff slid closer, his cock bumping up against Jensen's chin. He wanted to leave a trail of his cum all along that collar, more evidence of his ownership. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Yours," Jensen responded, voice almost pleading.

"Don't you forget it." Jeff braced himself on the headboard, leaning forward to feed Jensen his thick cock. This wasn't the best angle, Jeff couldn't get very deep, but he could watch as Jensen's plump lips closed around the head. And this wasn't about his pleasure, no, this was about Jeff making his claim. Jensen had to lie there and just take it, suck Jeff's cock down like he was nothing more than a sex toy.

Because Jeff asked him to.

"Remember," Jeff choked out, too far along himself as he thrust forward, sinking his cock into Jensen's mouth as far as it would go. "You are mine."

Jensen couldn't respond, but he sucked eagerly, humming deep in his throat as Jeff fucked his mouth. That was all it took and Jeff pulled back so he could palm his dick and come all over those pretty lips, leaving his mark behind. Then he had to move so he could lean and kiss Jensen, sharing his taste between them, forcing his tongue into Jensen's mouth like he had forced his cock.

Jeff reached out and grabbed the control for the dildo. "Come for me, baby." He threw the setting up to high once more, but took Jensen's pretty flushed cock on one hand. Oh it burned Jeff's skin, it was so swollen, so eager to come. Jensen squeezed his eyes shut and let out a gasping moan as Jeff finally gave him release.

"Easy, easy." He kissed Jensen's temple, down his ear, nibbling against his jaw. With his free hand he touched the bands around Jensen's wrists, releasing them. Jensen pulled his arms down and around Jeff, holding on as he shivered.

"The vibrator," Jensen gasped out.

"Mmm," Jeff murmured. He lowered the setting slowly. "Someday going to make you come and come, see how long you can stand it. I bet they got something here that'll make you stay hard."

Jensen moaned, his lips against Jeff's chin. "Looking forward to that."

Jeff hoped they'd get the chance.

***

"I think you'll be happy with the revised contract, Commander Morgan."

Jensen knelt in his place beside Jeff around the table in the negotiations room. The queen and Lady Verona sat across from them, with Sub Fredric at his mistress's feet. He felt disoriented, still not quite caught up after having lost a day. And every time he brushed up against one of the walls, he felt something thrum against his skin, as if Harmony herself had to keep reminding him that she was there and watching.

"I'll take a look at it, have my team check it and let know you for sure," Jeff told them.

And there was Jeff, and just the sound of his voice sent a warm thrill through Jensen. Everything had changed, his world had gotten turned around and Jensen found he loved it. He turned his head, just to feel the bruises on his neck rub against his collar. Jeff had marked him for everyone to see.

"I agreed to one of your captain's additions," Queen Michelle said. "To aid you in your fight against the Confed. I want your UP's aid in return."

Because the city would be helpless against the Confed if they chose to come here full strength, with all their ships and their robot-like soldiers. Jensen clenched his fingers into fists, his mind flashing with images of the city ravaged, the children enslaved, without regard for the careful order in place here. No, they couldn't let that happen.

"Any help you give us would be more than appreciated," Jeff told her.

"If there are no more changes, and you agree to everything, we can seal this at the closing ceremony. The Choosing ends until this time next year."

Jensen felt a bit of sadness at that, odd because this wasn't his world or his holiday, but he felt connected to these people through their festival. They had welcomed him, accepted him in a way that would never happen back in the UP.

As they all stood to conclude the meeting, Fredric leaned over and whispered something in his mistress's ear. The queen turned to him, "Commander, if you will, my sub would like a word with Sub Jensen."

"Of course. I'll be outside," Jeff told Jensen. He bowed slightly, took his slate and left.

The queen and Lady Verona exited through the interior door, leaving Jensen alone with Fredric, the first time since their one meeting.

"I just wanted to thank you," Fredric said. "For all you've done."

Jensen shrugged. It had been Fredric, after all, that had suggested Jensen would be a worthy sub in Harmony's eyes, though he still wasn't quite sure what that meant. "I'm just glad she accepted me."

"Only you could have done it," Fredric said, just as oblique as ever. "I wanted to thank you especially for helping my son. He hasn't been himself in years, but this season . . .  
he's bloomed with your friendship."

Jensen ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. He still worried about Peter's situation, wasn't sure Adrian was the best dom for him. But at least Peter had opened up to Jensen, and maybe that's all the other man needed. "I value his," Jensen told Fredric honestly.

When he left the room, he found Jeff in furious conversation with Duchess Claudia. They stopped as Jensen approached. "Mistress," he said, bowing his head as appropriate.

Claudia gave Jeff a look, and he sighed. "Jensen, the duchess would like our help in punishing Sub Misha."

Oh, Jensen remembered now, Misha ditching him and Peter to stay at the auction. Peter had been so upset. With everything that had happened afterwards, Jensen had forgotten about it. And really, it was odd he hadn't seen Misha since leaving the healers. "Is he all right?" he asked Claudia, thinking back to the large Master Hal, who had dwarfed the smaller Misha.

Claudia shrugged. "Physically, yes. He knows he's done wrong, and the longer I wait in punishing him, the harder it will be for us both. Afterwards he will make a public apology on the tele, but he can't do that until punishment has been given."

"Why do you need our help?" Jensen asked, curious. He couldn't imagine there being anything that Claudia couldn't do.

She gave him a thin-lipped smile. "He is attracted to you both, and yet there is no danger of either of you wanting more from him. And the humiliation of being punished by a friend only adds to the punishment. He needs to be shamed out of his bad behavior."

This, Jensen thought, would be true punishment. There would be no pleasure taken in any pain given to Misha, no act would serve to arouse him. Everything would be a reminder of how he had broken his word to his mistress. "I think we should help," he told Jeff. After all, it had been Misha's suggestion for Jeff to punish Jensen, and that had worked out well.

Jeff gave him a bleak look. "You haven't heard what she wants us to do yet."

This time the smile on Claudia's face was genuine. "Oh, I'm sure Jensen will have no problem with my methods."

Jensen wasn't exactly too sure about that. For a moment he nearly reconsidered, but this was something both Claudia and Misha needed. They'd helped him and Jeff, could they do any less?


	16. Chapter 16

Maggie dropped her head into her hands, leaning over in her seat. Everything just caught up with her at once, after being up far too late dealing with the fucking Confed.

When she'd taken this posting, she'd expected weird shit. They'd be exploring a region of space that hadn't been visited by humanity in over three hundred years. No one knew if there would be any survivors from the original colonists. She'd expected danger, anything from running into aliens or hostile planets or strange new diseases they had no cure for.

Maggie hadn't expected having the fucking Confed show up. She was supposed to have left the war behind, back in familiar regions of space. Having them show up like this? It was like they'd desecrated the whole reclamation project. They'd twisted something that should have been about exploration and knowledge into just another power play.

"What are you doing still awake?" Chikezie's voice broke into her thoughts.

Maggie looked up, her blurry vision barely making out the lieutenant's form in the front of the shuttle. "Working on logs?" she tried.

"Not on less than four hours of sleep," Chikezie tsked, sounding a lot like a librarian Maggie once knew back home. She smiled at the thought.

"It's the Vivran." She held out her trembling hands. "I can't sleep until it's worn off."

Chikezie dropped into the chair next to her and pulled out her med kit. "You should have said something. I have the counter injection."

"If I wasn't so fucking tired I might have remembered that." Maggie let her hands drop. "It was too close," she said. "Them being here."

Chikezie paused, looking up from her kit. "You've seen combat, Corporal?"

"Who hasn't?" Maggie said. "It's just . . .it's been a while since I worried about reaching for my sidearm."

Like that time they were boarded, the ducts of the Cardinal compromised by a fucking Confed infiltrator. She'd been in the engine room, frantically tearing out wires and rerouting power lines when they'd been surprised. Cunningham had knocked her to the ground, saving her life because all she had in her hand was the spanner for the circuit boards. Maggie had grabbed Cunningham's sidearm after he went down and took out the Confed bastard before he could get her too.

"Gyllenhaal." Chikezie snapped her fingers. "Maggie!"

Only then did Maggie realized she sat hunched over, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth.

"I'm going to give you the counter," Chikezie said, touching Maggie's arm gently. "Then I want you to go straight to your bunk and get twelve hours of shut-eye. Got it Corporal?"

"Yes, sir."

***

Jeff hadn't known what to expect when they walked into the specially prepared dungeon for the scene. When he'd agreed, only because Jensen had really, he'd been expecting something like their mutual play session, in a private playroom in Claudia's suite. He hadn't known there were entire rooms in the palace reserved just for this purpose, rooms that made his little playroom seem tiny and immature.

This dungeon had dark stone floors that matched the walls, so you couldn't tell how far it went on for, or which way was up. Tall iron-stands in the corners held lit candles, the only source of light in the entire room, giving it a dim dreary feel. Jeff felt Jensen move closer to him, so that their bodies touched all along their sides. He guessed it was getting to him too.

Hooks dangled from the ceilings, hovering over a collection of stocks, cages and benches. Dark wooden boxes were placed in strategic locations, and Jeff knew those crates contained any kind of implement he could imagine and then some. He could only smell the melting wax, unscented with any oil or perfume, and the rest of the place smelled sterile and metallic, almost like blood.

He'd ordered Jensen into one of his leather harnesses, with a kilt over it for modesty. Now that they'd reached the room, he nodded and Jensen stripped off the kilt, revealing the straps that went all the way down, around his cock and thighs. Jeff liked how the dark leather looked on his pale skin, the buckles restraining all the strength beneath those taut muscles. That was for Jeff to touch, and only he could permit any release.

Jensen nodded to Jeff, once, before dropping to his knees, locked his hands behind his neck, head lowered as proper for a sub. Jeff felt the arousal curl in his gut and he welcomed it, knew he'd need it to carry him through this evening's events. What hit him most was that Jensen knelt for Jeff, that he willingly chose to let his body be used however Jeff saw fit. The power in that was undeniable, but the responsibility immense.

The doors to the dungeon were thrown open, clanging loudly against the stone, no shimmering alien magic for this stage. A pair of guards dragged Misha to the center of the room, although Jeff only guessed it was Misha, a black hood covered his face completely. They all but threw him to the floor, and he barely caught himself in time. One of the guards pulled off the hood and Misha blinked, his hair disheveled, his face pale.

For a moment Jeff felt a pang of sympathy, this wouldn't be fun for the sub, and he wasn't entirely sure Misha deserved it. Then again, Jeff eyed Jensen, perhaps he needed it in the same way Jensen had. Jeff didn't pretend to understand it, but he wouldn't judge either of them.

After a deep breath to get his thoughts in order, Jeff channeled his inner drill sergeant again, and stalked across the room. He grabbed Misha by his locks of hair and pulled his face back, forcing their eyes to meet. "You're dismissed," he told the two guards, who nodded and left the room.

Jeff regarded Misha for a long moment, nude except for the red collar tight around his neck. "Pretty little slut," he snapped, letting Misha's head fall back. He wouldn't give Misha the privilege of a name during this session. "Stand up, show off."

Misha pushed himself to his feet, trembling slightly. He tried to remain still as Jeff circled him, but he lacked Jensen's easy skill and grace. Jeff shook his head and clucked his tongue as he finished his inspection. "Disappointing," he said and Misha flinched, hard. "Do you see Jensen moving?" Jeff asked, gesturing to where Jensen still knelt, completely still, a perfect statue.

"No, sir," Misha said hoarsely.

Jeff slapped him across the face. "Did I give you permission to speak?"

Misha shook his head vigorously. Jeff noted he didn't even touch the bruise blooming on his cheek, and nodded in approval. "Jensen," he ordered. "Put the binds on this red band."

As Misha flinched yet again, Jeff walked away from him, turning his back on the sub like he was of no importance. Meanwhile, Jensen slid gracefully to his feet and over to the wooden crate where he had placed the items earlier. Jeff continued to watch out of the corner of his eye as Jensen approached Misha.

First, he placed the nipple clamps - a pair that bit especially hard, Jeff had caught one on his finger earlier and didn't envy Misha at all as Jensen clipped one onto each pink nipple. The muscles in Misha's throat worked, but he didn't make a sound, didn't even gasp or cry out. Then Jensen went for the cock cage, a metal monstrosity that circled Misha's balls, and surrounded his dick, making it impossible for him to get hard. A necessity, to remind Misha that this wasn't for his pleasure, though Jeff doubted that even Misha would find anything pleasurable in what was to come.

As Jensen walked back to his side, Jeff hooked a finger through one of the straps on the harness and pulled him over. Then he took Jensen in a full-fledged kiss, forcing him to lean back as Jeff devoured his mouth, sucking on his lower lip till Jensen moaned from deep in his chest. "Who do you belong to?" Jeff murmured.

"You," Jensen hissed back.

"Take your place." Jeff didn't look back to make sure he obeyed. Jensen could be trusted to do as ordered. He strode over to where Misha still stood, his body all but vibrating with tension. "On your knees," Jeff barked out.

Misha went down with a thunk, and Jeff gave a mental wince on his behalf. He tangled his fingers in Misha's unruly hair and pulled his head back. "Do you know why you're here, sub?"

Misha knew better than to speak, so he only waited for Jeff to finish. "You're here because you can't be trusted." When Misha's eyes closed for a moment, Jeff pulled his head forward and then back again. "You don't get to hide from this," Jeff warned. "You want to be treated like a tavern boy?"

"No," Misha protested.

"You have a funny way of showing it," Jeff snarled. He released Misha's hair with disgust, all but throwing him away. Then he undid the lacings on his pants, pulling out his cock, stiff from watching Jensen earlier, and Jeff found he had to keep that picture in his mind as he stroked his dick to full hardness.

Out of the corner of his eye Jeff saw something shift in the shadows. Claudia. She was like a cloud of smoke in the periphery, Misha hadn't noticed her watching yet, and that was part of the point, for him to think he was alone here, alone to take his punishment without a master to care for him. This had to be done, Jeff reminded himself, but it wasn't going to be easy on either of them. He needs this, Jeff thought, remembering Jensen thanking him after having his ass paddled red.

Jeff almost wished he had a paddle handy. Instead, he slapped his cock across Misha's face, smearing a bit of pre-come over those cheeks. When Misha chased his dick, mouth open to suck it down, Jeff grabbed Misha's hair with both hands and forced his head still. "This isn't about what you want," Jeff reminded him.

Misha whimpered in the back of his throat, but didn't speak. He held still as Jeff took his cock in one hand and trailed it over his lips, slicking them shiny with pre-come. Jeff continued to torture Misha for a moment, before pulling his cock away. "Don't move, keep your eyes open."

"Come here, Jensen."

For some reason, Jensen decided to crawl across the floor, his body undulating in sensual motion, muscles straining against the leather of his harness. If Jeff weren't rock hard already, his motion alone would have done it. "Suck me," he ordered, but his words were much gentler than anything he'd said to Misha.

Misha watched with wide eyes as Jensen slowly slid down Jeff's cock, surrounding its girth with those plump lips. Jensen knew his trade, knew how to keep it slow, how to put on a show, keeping his arms behind his back so nothing interfered with the view. He looked up at Jeff under long eyelashes, his face the perfect model of submission. Jeff gave into the impulse to reach down and stroke Jensen's hair, his gentle touch a contradiction to how he had manhandled Misha before.

"Get it nice and wet," Jeff told him. And it was Misha who groaned in response.

Jensen obeyed, working Jeff's cock until it was slick and shiny with his saliva. Then, he pulled off with a pop, licking his lips to chase the taste of Jeff there. Jeff suppressed a groan of his own - he was in control here, and no one, not even Jensen should appear to take that from him. "Hands and knees," Jeff told Jensen, "face him."

As Jensen got in position, Misha kept his eyes on him, the dark blue nearly obscured by the blown out iris. Jeff knew under ordinary circumstances the sub would be hard as a rock by now, possibly might have been allowed to come a time or two. But now Jeff was in charge, and he wasn't given to indulging Misha.

He stood behind Jensen and spread his cheeks apart, making it obvious as he tested Jensen's hole with two fingers. Slick, hot and tight, as always. Jeff lined up his cock and shoved inside, Jensen arching up and gasping at the action. He continued to moan and writhe as Jeff moved, as if unable to help himself.

"Who do you belong to?" Jeff asked Jensen with a slap against his ass.

"You, master," Jensen choked out.

Every time he called Jeff that - master - Jeff couldn't help the tightening in his groin, the way the word stirred his arousal to new heights. Perhaps Jensen did it so rarely for that very purpose. "Who takes care of you?" Jeff asked next, one hand reaching around to cup Jensen's cock, so hot and hard beneath his fingers.

"You do," Jensen answered, shivering at the touch.

"Don't come yet," Jeff ordered. He rolled his hips, knowing when he hit Jensen's sweet spot by the way the sub whimpered in pleasure. Jeff gripped Jensen's hips, leaving bruises in the shape of fingerprints. Jensen only shoved back, his ass in the air, just begging for a good hard fucking. And Jeff gave it to him, slamming forward with all he had.

When Jensen tightened around him - on purpose, the sly little thing - Jeff couldn't help it, he choked out a moan and came. He pulled out, still dripping from his come mixed with the oil already inside Jensen. Before he walked over to Misha, he ran his hands down Jensen's still trembling back. "Easy, boy, I'll get you there." But he had a job to do first.

"Clean me off," Jeff ordered Misha, giving him the humiliating task without even the pleasure of having sucked Jeff's hard cock, or letting him get hard himself.

Claudia, at this point, had moved into the light, and he knew just when Misha saw her. Those blue eyes got wide, and a red flush rose up on his cheeks, his rhythm faltering for just a moment, before he went back to eagerly lapping at Jeff's cock. Ah, so Misha wanted to show how good of a boy he was.

Jeff pulled away. "You think it makes a difference?" he snapped. "You can't be good just when she's watching."

Misha whimpered and Jeff turned his back, tucking himself away before going to the wood crate where Jensen had stored all the toys they'd need. Jeff picked up the long black dildo - ribbed instead of smooth, perfect for prostate stimulation. He wondered how much time these people spent on developing things like this, how much of their tech went into sex toys.

"Now, Jensen," Jeff told him, giving Jensen the honor of a name in this session. "He's always a good boy, right slut?" He slapped one round cheek, and Jensen only moaned in response. Jeff pushed the dildo up against Jensen's entrance, teasing him slightly with the thing, which was longer and thicker than Jeff himself - hell, it was enough to give anyone a complex. He eased it inside, each inch eliciting a louder moan. When Jeff twisted it, so that the ridged edge bumped against Jensen's prostate, Jensen all but squealed.

"Please," Jensen gasped out.

"Do you want to come, boy?" Jeff asked.

"If my," Jensen had to stop a moment, his voice breaking. "If my master wishes."

"Your master wishes you to come all over the tramp over there," Jeff said. He buried the dildo halfway inside Jensen's body and pulled Jensen up, so he knelt facing Misha. Jeff curled his fingers around Jensen's cock, stroking with slow, careful motions. "Come on, boy."

Jensen groaned, his eyes shut tightly as strips of his come landed on Misha's torso and caged dick. Misha remained still throughout, not even blinking. Jeff wanted to rub that blank expression right off of his face. He pulled out the dildo from between Jensen's cheeks, still holding Jensen with his other arm, as Jensen gasped and twitched, still coming down from his orgasm.

Jeff held the dildo in front of Jensen. "Fuck him with this until he begs for mercy."

Jensen took the dildo, his grip sure. To Misha, Jeff ordered, "On your back, hold yourself open."

Misha obeyed quickly, probably relieved to finally being acknowledged as something other than a prop. He rolled to his back, and took hold of his legs just under the knee, pulling them back and spreading himself for Jensen. This way, Misha's cock hung heavy and useless in its cage, a visible reminder as Jensen slid the thick dildo inside that Misha would not be getting any pleasure any time soon.

Of course, Jensen hadn't added any lube to Misha's hole, all the slick he had was what was left on the dildo. Misha writhed as Jensen pushed his way inside, past the tense muscle with very little lubrication. Jeff hoped they could end this soon, watching silently as Misha threw his head back, his body tight with tension. Come on, Misha, he thought, don't try to be a martyr.

And then, "Please," Misha whispered, voice barely audible. Jeff waited. "Please, mistress!" Misha cried out to Claudia, who stood clearly in his sight.

Jensen stopped, and pulled the dildo out, letting it drop on the floor between them. He backed out of the way as Claudia strode across the room, over to where Misha lay, his legs still open and spread. She placed one boot-clad foot on his torso, keeping him down. "Have you learned? Or do you still wish to be owned by no one?"

"Mistress, forgive me," Misha begged.

Claudia's gaze flickered over to Jeff's only briefly. "Leave us."

Jeff nodded and gestured to Jensen, who only paused long enough to get his kilt before following Jeff out of the dungeon. Outside the door, Jeff leaned against the wall, eyes closed as he digested everything.

"You all right?" Jensen asked.

Jeff shrugged. "I will be." He decided that punishment was one of his least favorite things about 328. Couldn't two people just have an argument, some angry sex, and then follow that up with some makeup sex like everywhere else? "I don't understand," he finally said. "Why you need to be punished."

Jensen gave him a half-smile. "If we knew why, I don't think we'd need it half as much." He put his hand on Jeff's chest, stroking with his fingers. "It reminds me someone cares enough to do it."

After all this time, Jeff still didn't think he was anywhere close enough to understanding Jensen. Well, all he had to do was keep giving Jensen what he needed, and Jeff figured he was damn good at that at least.


	17. Chapter 17

"Will you, Misha, accept this collar and all the terms of the contract previously agreed to?"

"I will."

Jensen watched as a member of the crowd in the Great Hall as Claudia took the black leather collar from the queen and placed it around the neck of a kneeling Misha. This collaring would be the final one of the Choosing, and apparently it was quite the event, reflected on each of the floating screens in the room and, he knew, on screens throughout the city. It wasn't every day that the most prominent red band took the black, or so Jensen heard over and over today.

He and Jeff stood on one of the floating platforms, like many of the nobles of Harmony, held up in a position of honor. Tappen and Johnson were somewhere on the floor, Tappen receiving his blue collar from Ian much earlier. At the closing of today's ceremony, the queen would acknowledge them and speak about the new base. Afterwards, when the citizens went back to their ordinary lives, far from the fanfare of the Choosing, Jensen would accompany Jeff as he signed the treaty on behalf of the UP, concluding their work here.

Jensen could not believe how quickly the time had passed. It seemed like only yesterday he had been trying to convince Jeff that yes, people really had sex like this for fun. He bit back his grin looking at Jeff now, dressed like any other dom here in Harmony, standing tall and proud with his sub by his side. For once he felt optimistic about the future, a little bit of thrill in his chest at the idea of going back and still having Jeff, not having to leave him behind.

Peter knelt at his master's feet, on the other side of the room, his hands clasped behind his back and his head bowed. Jensen wished he'd have another chance to speak with him, but as the Royals were returning to their home districts after the ceremony, he doubted he'd get that chance.

"I hope you all join with me in wishing our friends from the stars safe journey back to their home," Queen Michelle had taken back the floor and all eyes were on her now. "But soon they will be our neighbors. Commander Morgan's people will build a base in the forest that surrounds Harmony, and we will join in friendship and trade with them."

Jensen looked around the room, judging the reaction of the crowd to this news. The people cheered and most seemed happy, at least he and Jeff had made a good impression on them. When he looked over he saw Duke Adrian scowling furiously for a moment before he smoothed his expression. The man still gave Jensen the heebie jeebies.

Jeff waved as the crowd turned towards them. "Thank you all for your hospitality," he said. "We will never forget this place or its people." The tech once again carried his voice across the room.

The queen calmed the crowd with a single hand. "Now is the time to release the bound sub, ending the Choosing for another year."

Jensen looked up as something descended from the ceiling, a cylindrical object, it was about as tall as a person, and reminded him of one of the escape pods common on space stations. It landed just to the right of the queen. She touched her hand to the surface, and the color began to change from soft gray to a warm red. Only then did the door slide open, revealing a young sub, bound spread eagled inside.

"Awake," Michelle ordered and the girl opened her eyes, blinking rapidly at the return of the light. "You are free to return to your master."

The ropes binding her retracted, and she stepped out, falling to her knees before the queen. "Thank you, mistress," she said, voice hoarse, but still broadcasted across the room.

"Suspended animation?" Jensen guessed, whispering for Jeff's ears only. It was certainly the most extreme form of bondage he'd ever seen if it were so.

Jeff only sighed, probably still wrapped up in the whys of it all. Jensen smiled.

"Safe journey back to your homes," the queen was saying, and the platforms began to move. Jensen assumed they'd take the others to the trams and back out into the city. The one he and Jeff were on would take them to the conference room, where they'd connect with the Mercury and sign the agreement. And then they'd take a tram to the city gates and trek back to base camp.

And leave Harmony long behind.

***

Jeff remembered when comming the ship resulted in blurred images and static-filled sound. However, ever since Jensen had bonded with Harmony, the reception for the comms had gotten much better. So it was easy to set up the device in the conference room so that Captain Devine could speak with Queen Michelle. Frankly, Jeff worried for the galaxy if the two women ever met in person.

"I have reviewed the terms of the agreement and it is acceptable to us," Michelle said, her voice pitched a little louder than usual to be heard over the comm.

"Thank you," the captain's voice echoed through the speakers. "We are grateful for the opportunity to work with you and your people. Consider Commander Morgan's signature binding on behalf of the UP."

And Jeff picked up the funky stylus and signed his name, watching as it appeared on his slate and the copy on every slate in the room. He might not get this world's technology, but he certainly appreciated it.

Michelle signed then, for all of her people, and the color of the slate changed, signifying that the agreement was now binding. They could begin building a more permanent base now, once the supply ships arrived. Jeff knew the UP needed a good situation out here in deep space, and this was the first step.

"Thank you, Commander Morgan," the queen said. "I'll come to your suite to see you off."

"Mistress," Jensen said in his unobtrusive voice. "May I say goodbye to Colin before we go? I haven't seen him today."

She smiled at him. "Of course. I believe he is in the gardens. He prefers the fifth level, so you might be able to catch him there."

Jensen turned to look at Jeff, who waved a hand at him. "Go on. We're all packed anyway, you'll just need to change before we leave. I'll meet you back at our quarters."

"Yes, sir." Jensen bowed slightly. He rose with a smile and then disappeared through the conference room's shimmering door.

***

Jensen didn't find Colin on the fifth level of the gardens - and he was a bit embarrassed to learn now that the gardens had a numbering system. That would have helped him out quite a bit earlier, although he'd mostly wandered after others who knew the grounds much better than he. Jensen found the terrace Colin had run to, after his fight with the princess, but there was no sign of the boy there either. He sat on the half-wall, looking out over the ocean as the waves battered the shore.

All right, just maybe he was stalling. If he really wanted to find Colin he would just call up the tele and look up the boy's location. Jensen closed his eyes, feeling the light breeze on his skin, breathing in the salty-sweet air of the ocean. This mission had been more like a dream than anything else and he feared going back to crisp reality. He hadn't forgotten the obligation waiting for him back home. He'd said yes to the mission before being diverted to this one, and Jensen knew he couldn't go back on his word.

He just didn't know how he was going to explain it to Jeff. The man was a fellow soldier, he'd understand, but Jensen knew it would hurt him. Especially after losing his wife to the Confed, Jensen wouldn't want to burden him with that kind of worry again.

"Jensen?"

Jensen opened his eyes, surprised to see Peter standing in the grove, his arms clasped behind his back. "Peter! I'd thought you'd left."

"I wanted to say goodbye. Master is holding the tram for me," Peter said, his lips curved into a tight smile.

Something about that didn't sit quite right, Adrian didn't seem like the sort of man to hold anything up for the sake of a sub. But Jensen was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. After that first horrific introduction, Adrian hadn't given him any real reason to worry for Peter, allowing his sub to accompany Jensen as he learned about Harmony.

Jensen slid off of the wall, sandals slapping against the red brick path. "I won't keep you then." He walked over to where Peter stood, wondering if he would be allowed to hug the other sub. With Misha, public displays of affection were more than welcome, but Peter always held himself a bit aloof.

"I'm sorry, Jensen," Peter said softly.

Jensen frowned. "Why?" Before he could get the word out completely, something covered his face, and the entire world went completely white.

***

Jeff hadn't realized how late it had gotten until the door chimed and revealed Dr. Johnson on the other side, holding his pack over one arm. The queen would be arriving shortly to see them off and there was no sign of Jensen.

"I apologize for being late, sir," Johnson said. "I went to see Major Tappen before I left."

Jeff winced at that, remembering the fierce look Tappen had shot his way during the closing ceremonies. That was the first time Jeff had seen him as the sub of Guard Ian, dressed in nothing more than loose fitting trousers and a dark blue collar around his neck. "If I'd had the choice, Doctor. . ."

Johnson shook his head. "I don't think Hank quite knew his own mind on the matter. He might've growled about the whole thing, but you didn't see the cow eyes he was giving that guard of his."

"Are you actually saying that their way of life actually has merit?" Jeff deadpanned. It was Dr. Johnson's words on slavery, after all, that had gotten them in this entire situation to begin with.

Johnson gave him a weak smile. "An old dog can learn new tricks, Commander." He pursed his lips for a moment. "Have you read my file? Do you understand why I was so upset?"

Jeff sank down into a comfortable chair. He'd read everyone's personnel files before they'd joined the reclamation project, but the information Johnson was talking about Jeff hadn't seen until he'd gone through the sealed records, opened only at the captain's request, so they could hunt down why Tappen and Johnson had been the only two taken. "Only before I returned," Jeff said. "I'm sorry, Karl, I didn't know."

"It's not something one talks about." Johnson sat across from Jeff, setting his pack on the table beside him. "Being a former Confed slave."

"It's not something one usually survives," Jeff said. "Give yourself some credit, Doctor. You're a survivor. I don't blame you for letting this place get to you."

The door chimed again, and Jeff stood to answer it, palming it open with practiced ease. He stepped back, startled to see the queen, the princess and their subs standing there. Conscious of the honor they were showing him, Jeff bowed and stepped back, allowing them into the sitting room. "Thank you for coming to see us off, but I'm afraid Jensen still hasn't returned."

Michelle grinned. "Colin must be talking his ear off. I'll remind him of the time." She grazed her fingers against the wall and it bloomed to life. After a moment, a picture of Colin's face appeared on the screen.

"Yes, mistress?" he asked, biting his lip.

"Colin, can you send Jensen back, please. His tram has arrived."

Colin frowned. "Mistress, I haven't seen Jensen since this morning during the ceremonies."

Jeff's heart plummeted. If Jensen wasn't with Colin, then where the hell was he?

Michelle clearly thought the same; she dismissed Colin and then called up a screen for Jensen. It remained stubbornly blank, meaning Jensen didn't answer, or couldn't answer.

"He's fallen in the garden before," Jeff said, proud of how measured his voice sounded.

"Show us Jensen," Michelle commanded. The blank screen disappeared, showing a grid of the city, which was how the locator usually worked. Normally it would zero in on the general area of the person you were searching for. However, the full grid remained stubbornly on screen.

"Mother, I've never seen it do that before," Alona said in a hushed voice. She came up behind Michelle and put her arm around her mother's waist.

Jeff pulled out his comm and dialed Jensen's code. He heard the chime come from Jensen's pack, which rested up against the wall where Jensen had left it earlier. "Damn," he swore. He should have make Jensen take it with him.

Michelle touched the wall again. "All subs and guards," she commanded. "Search the palace and locate Sub Jensen. Contact me immediately when you find him." She stepped back, and the wall became simply a wall. "We will find him," she told Jeff.

Jeff wanted to believe her, but couldn't understand where Jensen would have gone that was out of the reach of the technology of 328. He feared the worst, that Jensen had had some sort of accident in the gardens, and Harmony couldn't locate him because he was dead. Jeff sank into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. No, Jensen couldn't be dead. He couldn't do this again.

***

Sometime later Colin showed up at the suite, holding a slate under one arm. "I found it in the garden," he said, holding it out to Jeff. He bit his lip, his blue eyes large and worried.

At first Jeff didn't understand why, but when he touched it, the slate came to life, the screen lit up showing one message. "Master, I'm sorry, Jensen." He looked at it blankly, not understanding the glowing text.

"Let me?" Michelle asked softly. When Jeff handed it to her she slid her finger along the bottom and the printed text transformed into the handwritten letters originally scrawled on the screen. "Is this his writing?"

And Jeff couldn't answer that question. He hadn't known Jensen long enough to know what his handwriting looked like. They hadn't had any occasion over the past few weeks for Jeff to have seen any samples either. He was sure it was on file somewhere, but still that was out of reach. "I don't know," he told her honestly. "But he wouldn't. . .he would have written 'Jeff' instead of Master, if he truly meant the message."

"What do you think it means?" Colin asked. He had remained in the room, adding himself to the worried party in Jeff's sitting room. "He wouldn't have, he couldn't have . . . the force fields wouldn't let him . . ."

"Breathe, Colin." Jeff knelt in front of the boy and grasped him on the shoulder. It was almost gratifying for someone else to panic, because then Jeff could focus on calming Colin and not worry about his own nerves. "No, Jensen wasn't suicidal. He wouldn't have killed himself."

"Then why apologize?" Alona asked, sounding just as confused as Jeff felt.

"Colin, was his collar left behind?" Michelle asked softly.

Fredric, who had been kneeling by her side, turned sharply to look at her. "You don't truly believe he meant to leave his master?"

"It is not unheard of," she said, resting her hand on the back of his neck. "Perhaps he did not want to return to your stars. After communing with Harmony, maybe she asked him to stay."

"He would have told me," Jeff protested, but even as he spoke the words he wasn't quite sure if Jensen would have. Their relationship was still so new; he had no idea how they'd function without these roles of master and sub. But even then, Jeff realized, they'd have their ranks to get in the way, he'd always be Jensen's superior in some form.

"Jensen wouldn't leave without telling anyone!" Colin insisted. "Not even Harmony would ask that of him!"

"You don't know what Harmony would ask," the queen chided him slightly.

"Colin has a point," Jeff mused. "He would have told someone. If not me, then maybe Misha? Or Peter?"

Michelle nodded. "I will send messages through both Claudia and Duke Adrian."

"My mistress," Fredric interrupted softly. "This seems more than strange to me. Harmony has never failed to show the location of one of her subs before. Even if she did lay claim to him."

"Fredric, what are you saying?" Michelle blurted, surprised out of her usual cold demeanor.

"It wouldn't be the first time a greedy dom played with the rules," Fredric said in a low undertone. "Perhaps even manipulate the tele?"

Jeff frowned. "Is that even possible?"

The queen and her sub exchanged looks. "All of the Five are given the key to Harmony," she explained. "I am queen now, but it is possible for any of the others to rise and take over. I believe she did that so no one would rule as a tyrant."

Jeff shook his head. He might not have been the biggest fan of the council of senators that ran the UP, but at least those assholes were elected by the people. "So any one of the dukes or duchesses could possibly manipulate the system and make it so we couldn't find Jensen?"

"It's possible," the queen agreed. "I wouldn't have said probable."

Fredric snorted, causing all eyes to look in his direction. "You know. . . "

"No," she snapped at him. "Now is not the time or place."

"I have to contact my captain," Jeff said. Devine had to know why they hadn't shown up at base camp yet.

"Commander, know what we will do anything we can to find Jensen and bring him home safely," Michelle said.

"You're damn right you will," he snapped, not caring that his irritation showed in his voice. Jeff left the sitting room, the door closing behind him as he entered the sanctuary of the bedroom, the very room where he had woken up curled around Jensen this morning.

The stupid note on the slate spoke to all of his fears, that Jensen would run at the slightest chance, turn away from Jeff in search of someone better. But the Jensen Jeff had come to know would never leave behind his responsibilities. He remembered Jensen insisting on comming his younger brother before they left for 328, that he did so before every mission. That was not the soldier who turned his back on his world chasing some sexual master.

That settled, he punched in the code for the ship, closing his eyes as the Captain answered. "Lieutenant Ackles is missing."

"I don't believe the comm circuits are working correctly, Commander. I believe you just told me Lieutenant Ackles was missing?"

"Yes, Captain," Jeff said. "He didn't report to the tram this afternoon. I'm working with the queen and her guards in locating him. Request assistance, including a team with bio scanners."

"Will they let us in this time, Commander?"

"They damn well better," Jeff snapped. "I think one of the nobles may have abducted him."

"Commander, do you have any proof of that?"

"Of course not, but when I do . . ." He had specifically put it in the contract that if any citizen of 328 committed a crime against a citizen of the UP, they'd be judged according to the law of the UP. The queen had agreed after looking at a sample of their criminal code, saying that the UP penalties were far more lenient than their own. Jeff reminded himself to look up exactly what was the penalty for kidnapping in Harmony.

"Keep me informed. You'll have your backup as soon as they can get to the city gates."

"Thank you, Captain."

Jeff closed the connection. He took a moment to rest his head in his hands, letting the worry and exhaustion flow through him. But that was all, Jensen needed him, and Jeff would not let him down.


	18. Chapter 18

Jensen felt the cold of the metal long before he opened his eyes and saw the cage. It pressed against every inch of his body: the front of his legs to his knees, his buttocks, along his back and the sides of his arms. They'd put him in a cage sized to his body, so he couldn't move. The bastards had even cuffed his wrists to the sides, and attached his collar to the square opening, so that his head hung forward without any support.

He tried to pull back, to at least rest his chin on one of the bars, only to gasp at the feel of a dildo pressing against his opening. The only way he could get some relief for his head would be to risk his ass. In the right situation, he thought giddily, this might actually be fun. But someone had taken him, locked him in this cage, and who knew what else they had planned? Jensen thought back, trying to remember the last person he'd seen, and his scattered memories came up with an image of Peter in the garden.

Almost as if he'd conjured him up, one wall shimmered, dark gray stone disappearing as Peter crawled into the dungeon room. Peter moved with feline grace, his long limbs extended perfectly as he pulled himself forward. He had a serene kind of beauty, miles of pale skin, and Jensen knew doms who'd love to break him in, though it seemed it had already been done.

Peter crawled because he had to; Jensen caught a glimpse of the bars that kept his balls pulled back behind his legs, stretched across the tops of his thighs. With that thing on Peter could not physically stand. Twin weights hung from the rings in his nipples, and black rope formed a twisted pattern around his cock.

"I'm sorry, Jensen," he said softly, coming so close his face was only inches from Jensen's. "My master ordered me to."

Jensen scowled at him. "To what? Kidnap me? Does he honestly think no one will notice I'm gone?" He knew all Jeff had to do was give the order, and the tracer in his navel piercing would lead them right to Jensen.

"He made it seem that you left on your own," Peter whispered. "So your master thinks you betrayed him."

Jensen closed his eyes for a moment. They'd activate the tracer once they'd figured out he hadn't left on his own, though he had no idea how long that would take. Damn Adrian. He lifted his head to snap at Peter and his collar clanged suspiciously against the metal. That wasn't the leather collar he'd left home in.

"He took my collar?" Jensen blurted. Then, horrified, realized the only metal collar he'd ever seen on 328 was the golden lifetime band. He couldn't see his own neck, so he had to ask Peter. "What, what color did he put on me?"

"It's grey metal," Peter said, looking at Jensen with his earnest blue eyes.

"What does this mean?" Jensen snapped, the fear still coiling in his gut.

Peter looked away as he answered. "It's the collar of the unwilling. It's similar to the one used on prisoners. My master is the only one who uses it."

"Fucking prick," Jensen muttered under his breath. At least he wasn't locked into some lifetime deal with Adrian. "Peter, what the hell are you doing here?"

Peter lifted one hand and Jensen flinched, only for the other man to grab on to one of the rungs of his cage. "He doesn't let me speak, and I wanted the chance to explain to you."

Jensen clenched his hands into fists. "Explain how you abused my trust and helped abduct me. Thanks Peter, thanks so fucking much."

"Jensen," Peter hissed, "You don't know what he's like, please, don't fight him."

That was all Peter had time to say, the wall blurred again into a door and two of Adrian's guards entered the room. They walked with a swagger, both strong hefty men, dressed in a uniform similar to the guards in the Royal district, only in silver and blue instead of red and gold. Something in the way they carried themselves made Jensen think of every asshole who'd harassed him in the past, when all he wanted was just to be accepted like any other soldier.

"Looks like we found the duke's favorite slut," the taller of the two guards said, slapping the other on the arm.

Peter stiffened, and then his shoulders dropped, and he just looked resigned. He backed away from Jensen, and towards the door, but one of the guards grabbed Peter by his hair and forced his head back. "Our lucky day, he hasn't been used yet. You want the front half or the back?"

The other guard began unbuckling his belt. "I'll take his ass. You had it last time."

"Mmmm, and that was a sweet ride." The first guy freed his own cock and pushed it past pale pink lips, just as his partner lined himself up behind Peter.

Jensen swallowed as he watched, unable to look away as the two guards took Peter between them. If this were Misha, Jensen knew the scene would be different - Claudia would be nearby and Misha loved being used. But Peter's master was nowhere to be found, and these assholes didn't even talk to him, just about him, like he was nothing more than a living sex toy. He'd seen rape before, Jensen wasn't a stranger to the darker sides of sex and what passed for sex.

He could be wrong, he knew. The tears that squeezed through Peter's shut eyes could be nothing more than an emotional release, Jensen had seen it in subs before, hell, he'd been the one to cry.

But he'd also been on the other side of an unwilling fuck. His vision hazed over for a moment, and then he was back on Station 73, selling his body as just another trick in the night. Fuck, he'd hated that mission. His cover had to be tight, so Jensen had to live off of what he actually earned while hooking. For the first few days especially he couldn't turn anyone down, no matter how dirty or disgusting they seemed to him. And then once he fulfilled the first objective - got himself hired by Madam Heidi - he never had the choice to say no. He had to fuck who she told him.

This brought him right back to that, being passed around at a party, arms bound behind his back, his ass sore and leaking, drool running from his swollen lips. He remembered how it smelled - stale sweat, the sharp pungent spice of the lube, the musk of the semen covering his body. Jensen couldn't scrub himself clean, not that night, not for years afterward.

And this was Peter's life? Had been his life for the past five years? This resembled nothing like how the subs were treated in the palace. For a moment Jensen wondered if the joke had been on him, if Harmony was much crueler than he'd thought. He couldn't call this safe, sane and consensual. You're already forgiven, Peter, he thought, wishing he could get the chance to tell the boy so. In his place, Jensen would have done the same.

Now he'd have to survive Adrian.

The guards finished up, the one in the back pulling out with a squelch and slap on Peter's ass. "Where's your plug, boy?" he asked, the first words spoken directly to Peter, who couldn't even answer, his mouth still choking on cock.

The other guard pulled out with a groan, his come falling on Peter's nose and cheeks. "Mmm, someone's going to be punished, leaving his cage without a plug."

"Don't say I never did anything for you," the first guard chuckled and pulled out a thick metal butt plug from somewhere, probably midair for all Jensen knew, and shoved it where his dick had just been. Peter twitched slightly, but otherwise didn't react, and at that Jensen knew this scene was all too common.

"Too bad we can't fuck this one, Van," And at least Jensen had a name for one of them.

"Not yet." Van leered and Jensen had to suppress a shudder. "Look at those eyes, the duke wasn't kidding."

The other guard whistled. "Never seen a sub with green eyes before."

Van snorted. "You can't fuck his eyes. Come on, we're already late."

Jensen held still while they opened the side panels of the cage. He wasn't intending on resisting, he saw the gleam in their eyes, how they were just itching to take him down. They pulled the dildo out first, and he relaxed in relief. When they released the cuffs around his wrists, Van pulled both of Jensen's arms behind his back, holding him there while the other one undid the clasp on the front and allowed Jensen to pull his head back through. He stumbled when they forced him to stand, his muscles screaming at being held in that position.

"Don't worry, you'll be crawling soon enough."

"You know you guys just ain't that funny," he snapped.

Van grabbed his hair - that seemed to be his favorite move - and pulled Jensen's head back, exposing his throat. "Subs don't talk without permission. Remember that."

Jensen bit back a response, the last thing he needed was to give these bastards an excuse to go on a power trip. When Van threw him forward Jensen caught himself, hard to do with his hands bound behind his back, and managed to keep walking. He forced himself to stay calm, to observe his surroundings, to use every tool at his disposal to survive relatively intact and do anything he could to alert Jeff to his location.

Adrian's castle was nothing like the palace, it lacked the filtering of light, the bright colors, the sense of joy that pervaded the queen's domain. Dark stone, like that in the dungeon where they'd punished Misha, made up the floors and the walls. Jensen didn't feel any give on his feet here, no, this stone looked and felt like rock. Adrian didn't seem to be the type to make things easier for a sub.

The guards pushed Jensen into Adrian's great hall, with a ceiling just as tall as the one in the queen's palace. People-sized cages hung from this one instead of chandeliers, with subs bound inside. Subs were also bound to the pillars that lead up to the throne, set slightly above the rest of the room on a raised altar. Adrian sat on the ornate seat, made of wrought iron twisted into a grotesque pattern. A sub knelt on all fours at his side, a tray with drinks on her back.

It took Jensen a moment to notice, as he tried to take in every detail of the room, that every single sub other than Peter wore a gray metal collar. The collar of the unwilling Peter had called it - did that mean all of Adrian's subs were unwilling?

The guards pushed him to his knees just before the dais, but he remained stubbornly looking up at Adrian. This man wasn't his master, Jensen didn't owe him any respect.

"Come here, Peter." Adrian ignored Jensen's presence totally, which had Jensen gaping stupidly up at him.

Peter crawled past him, and Jensen had no idea how the other sub had kept up on his knees the entire time. He watched Peter move, his ass plugged, his balls stretched and restrained, the weights swinging from his nipples and realized that Peter must be in constant pain. No wonder he hadn't cried out after the whipping.

"Did anyone see you in the gardens?" Adrian asked.

Peter shook his head no.

"And you left the slate I gave you?"

Peter nodded.

Adrian smiled, a slow smile that had fear curling in Jensen's gut. "Good boy. I think for bringing Jensen to me, you deserve a reward." His eyes met Jensen's as he spoke.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Adrian was trying to do. By rewarding Peter for kidnapping Jensen in front of Jensen, he was hoping to grind the last bits of friendship they might have between them. Hadn't Peter said that once, back at the palace? That subs couldn't have friends?

"I think I might let you come," Adrian said, as if musing.

At the way Peter's head shot up, Jensen wondered how long it had been since he'd been allowed release. He'd worn a chastity device the entire time they'd been at the palace, and that had been for weeks. Adrian seemed like the sadistic bastard who'd keep his sub caged for months.

"Over my lap, ass up first," Adrian ordered.

Peter obeyed, draping himself over Adrian's legs, his ass and sore looking balls prominent. Adrian undid the locks on the device that held Peter's sack captive, rolling them slightly between his fingers before releasing them. Peter gave a sigh of relief, his eyes rolling back in his head for a moment.

Adrian released him. "Turn over."

It took some maneuvering, Peter wasn't a small man, but soon he sat on Adrian's lap, both legs thrown over his master's, one arm curled around to hold on to the throne for balance. Adrian pulled off the cage, undoing the lock and releasing it one metal ring at a time. He fondled Peter like a pet, stroking upwards until his cock was straining thick and proud. "Would you like a special reward, pet?"

Again, Peter didn't speak, just nuzzled against Adrian's neck. It made Jensen feel vaguely nauseous.

"Sub Leela," Adrian called. "Present. Ass up."

A young woman crawled from her place, a group of subs Jensen noticed out of the corner of his eye. They weren't tied to anything, but all of them wore some kind of spreader bar or chain to keep them kneeling or otherwise occupied. Leela had a thigh spreader strapped to her legs, making it impossible for her to close them. She turned when she reached the throne, facing Jensen and presenting her lower half to Adrian.

"You may have her." Adrian pushed Peter off of his lap. "You have permission to come."

Although Peter seemed grateful for the opportunity, Jensen tasted bile. A reward should be given by a master's hands, or so he always believed. And why should another sub suffer to reward the first? This seemed just how Adrian did business, pitting subs against each other, and everyone else against the subs. Disgusting, Jensen thought, their loyalty was worth nothing.

Adrian spread his legs as Peter moved off of him and towards the girl. His erection stood straight and thick between his thighs, evident through the loose fabric. One hand stroked it idly, almost as if bored. He kept smiling, staring right at Jensen.

The girl made tiny gasps as Peter entered her, he wasn't small and Jensen bet she wasn't prepared. Peter held on to her waist, and Jensen could see him fight not to come too quickly. But after that torture for so long, any man would shoot as soon as he was surrounded by tight slick heat. Peter cringed, his entire face crumbling as he came, probably more in pain than pleasure right now. Some reward.

"Clean yourselves up, then to your places," Adrian ordered as Peter finished. He rose from his throne, finally, coming down the steps to greet Jensen. "Welcome home, green-eyes."

Jensen glared at him. "You're not my master," he bit out. "You'll have to answer to Commander Morgan . . ."

Adrian laughed. "Commander Morgan isn't your master, boy. Both of you just pretended to fool that ignorant bitch calling herself queen right now."

"What?" Jensen choked out.

"Isn't that what you told Peter, when you were half-conscious with pain medication?" Adrian asked, raising an eyebrow. And damn him, but Jensen didn't remember, he very well could have.

Adrian shook his head, turning his back on Jensen as he walked away, pacing a bit. "Weak. Pathetic. Needing pain medication of all things. It took me years to break Peter of that. Wonder how long it'll take to break you."

"You're insane," Jensen blurted. "No matter what you think about me and Commander Morgan, you're threatening the agreement with the UP."

"That stupid little treaty? What can your UP do for us that Harmony cannot? I've made you disappear, after all. If I wanted, none of them would be even able to find this city."

Jensen shook his head, unbelieving. He'd met Harmony, he'd been the worthy sub, the sacrifice she needed to shield the city. There was no way she'd let Adrian do all that. "You're lying."

"Does it matter?" Adrian turned back and shrugged. "Would you even know? You obey my rules now."

The slap came hard and unexpected, setting Jensen's ears ringing and his eyes watering. He blinked back the tears furiously, not wanting this man to see a shred of weakness.

"How lovely the green looks." Adrian forced Jensen's face up, gripping him by his chin. "I can't wait to see it when I get full tears out of you. Maybe I'll breed you, start up a trade in green-eyed subs."

"No," Jensen gasped before he could think. Another slap came crashing down against the opposite cheek.

"First rule, you do not speak unless I give permission. Perhaps you need something to remind you." Adrian forced a ring gag against Jensen's lips, and he bit down on it, unable to do otherwise. Locking it in place, Adrian stepped back, admiring his handiwork, how Jensen must look with his lips forced wide and open. He unlaced his pants and Jensen knew what was about to happen.

And stars be damned, but he was hard, his cock curved against his thigh, already leaking a stream of pre-come. Jensen closed his eyes in shame. He'd feared this, even back in the Academy, feared his submissive nature and he needed to be subjugated, controlled, mastered, to the point where it didn't matter who.

Jeff deserved better than this, than some slut who'd get it up no matter who fucked him.

As Adrian stuffed his cock into Jensen's mouth, it turned out that he didn't have to do very much to get Jensen to cry at all.

***

"Stars, it's incredible."

Chikezie laughed and Maggie knew her reaction to actually being in the city might be a bit over the top. Maggie knelt on one of the cushy tram seats, hands pressed against the glass as she watched the city speed by, the twisted spirally towers, the bridges, the other trams winding through the sky. She couldn't imagine what it would be like once they got down there, the short glimpse before hopping on this vehicle wasn't enough to get more than an impression of cobblestone streets and stone pillars.

"Wait until you see the palace," Chikezie said, patting the crate that held the bio scanner absently, as if double-checking that it was still there.

"So far I'm not impressed," Whitfield said, though he didn't stop staring out of the window.

Chikezie rolled her eyes. "Just watch the attitude once we get inside. You don't want to pull a Dr. Johnson on us."

Whitfield let out a barking laugh. "The Doc's gonna love us using his name like that. Even if it is true."

"And don't forget it. Let me do all the talking," Chikezie said.

Maggie wasn't looking forward to being greeted by half-naked subs in leather collars. She knew she wouldn't be able to help thinking about her brother, and she really didn't want to picture Jake in similar circumstances.

But when the tram landed, or rather hovered next to a terrace on the side of one tower in the palace, a man in a standard black UP jumpsuit waited for them. It wasn't until they got off the tram, all of them wheeling crates of various sizes, that Maggie learned who the man was.

Chikezie greeted him with a brief hug, to everyone's surprise, even the man who pinked slightly at the attention. "Dr. Johnson, I'm so glad to see you."

He ducked his head. "Ah, Caroline. It's good to see you too."

"Where's Major Tappen? I thought Commander Morgan had succeeded, that's why you were coming home?"

Johnson gave a little shake of his head. "Tappen is staying behind. It's complicated. I'll explain later. Right now we need all of you to set up the bio scanner and find Lieutenant Ackles."

Chikezie nodded. "Is Commander Morgan inside?"

"Yes, you can go in. A little warning, he's a bit frazzled. We've been up all night before Devine recalled you."

Before following Chikezie and Whitfield into the palace Maggie stopped to introduce herself. "Corporal Gyllenhaal, sir. I've heard a lot about you."

Johnson gave her a weak smile, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. "Probably not the impression I wanted to give. Pleasure to meet you, Corporal. Are you new to the reclamation project?"

"No, sir. I'm a tech on the Mercury. Lieutenant Ackles requested my presence on planet." She narrowed her eyes. "I will do all I can to help find him."

"Good girl," the other man murmured, more praise than insult. Maggie shrugged it off and walked through the archway that led inside.

Places like this didn't exist outside of vidbooks, she thought, trying not to gape and stare at the pale marble flooring, the stone sculpture in the center of the room, or the waterfall fountain built into one wall. Instead she focused on Commander Morgan, sitting hunched over on one of the chairs surrounding a low wood and glass table.

"We'll set the scanner up in here, sir, if that's all right," Chikezie was saying. "Unless you'd rather someplace else?"

"Here is as good as any, as long as the damn thing works," Morgan snapped.

Maggie didn't know Morgan well enough to say anything, so she didn't make her presence known, just quickly got to work beside Chikezie and Whitfield, unpacking the equipment out of the crates. She'd brought along all of her hand tools, certain to be prepared for any eventuality. Between the three of them, they had the scanner set up and calibrated in little under an hour.

Chikezie stood before the holographic display, narrowing down the search area from the entire planet to the squared out area of the city. Maggie watched over her shoulder, fascinated as the other woman programmed the scanner to search for Ackles's unique biorhythms. Like everyone else in the Corps, his had been placed on file from the moment he enlisted.

"Commander Morgan," a female voice said, and Maggie looked over at the woman who entered the sitting room. At first glance she reminded Maggie of the captain, the way she carried herself, all eyes moving to her automatically. And then the eyes stayed because she was absolutely gorgeous, blonde curls piled on top of her head, dark eyes, and cheekbones any model would and did pay for.

Morgan looked away from his scrutiny of the scanner. He stood at her approach. "Any word?"

"Claudia and Misha are on their way back here, although she's set her guards out into the district, looking for any sign of Sub Jensen." She placed her hands on the back of one of the chairs. "And then I spoke to Duke Adrian. He seems to think Jensen left on his own."

"He wouldn't," Morgan insisted.

"No, I don't think he would either." She frowned, the expression on her face looking so defeated for a moment. "Commander, you may have to face the possibility, if Harmony can't find him, then perhaps he's dead."

Maggie frowned, because then the bio scanner wouldn't work either. There would be no biorhythms to find. It was a shitty thing to consider, especially after everything Lieutenant Ackles had done for her, when she was just getting to know him. And they might never find out what had happened to him.

"Even if that were true," Chikezie burst into the conversation, looking up from the scanner monitor. "I would have located the signal being emitted from his piercing tracer."

"Piercing tracer?" Morgan repeated. "Of course. I'd forgotten. Lieutenant, can you find him?"

Chikezie gestured to the device. "It should have lit right up. The fact that it hasn't concerns me. Is it possible someone could be jamming us?"

The woman looked at Chikezie, measuring, and then she weighed the rest of them. Maggie felt herself blushing under that regard, like she was split open for all to see.

"Before, I would have said impossible. But now," she shook her head. "Clearly something is interfering with our technology."

"Could it be the Confed?" Maggie asked, worried. Maybe they hadn't left after all. It would be just like them to have left an operative behind, making everything think they'd gotten fed up with the UP.

Morgan blew out a frustrated breath. "Your guess is as good as mine, Corporal. If it were the Confed, that doesn't explain how they could affect the city's tech."

"Hey," Whitfield interrupted, "Gyllenhaal, can you make our scanner work with theirs? Like you did with the Raleigh?"

Maggie felt herself blushing deeper as all eyes were intent on her. "I, uh, I don't know. With the Raleigh it was just a matter of twisting wires and adding a new connection. I wouldn't even know where to begin here."

"But such a combination could be enough to thwart whoever is hiding Sub Jensen," the woman mused.

Morgan nodded. "Corporal, you up to trying at least?"

 Maggie swallowed. "Yes, sir."

He smiled at her, the first smile she'd seen since they'd arrived. "Thank you. I suppose I should introduce you all to the queen."

"The queen?" Maggie repeated, jaw dropping in shock. Of course, it made sense, with the way she carried herself, this woman had to have authority. And somehow Ackles had gotten under even her skin to have the queen of this city personally looking for him. It didn't surprise Maggie at all.

It just made her even more eager to get to work.


	19. Chapter 19

Jensen knew from the panicked wide-eyed look on Peter's face that he wouldn't much like whatever Adrian did next.

And all the man had done - after plundering Jensen's mouth, after tucking himself away neatly, as if his come hadn't just poured down Jensen's throat, his taste sour on Jensen's tongue - was order the guards to "Take him to the Oubliette."

They pulled him to his feet, and Jensen caught a glimpse of Peter, looking downright frightened, and that didn't sit right at all. He resisted at first, made it so they had to drag him, but Jensen knew there was nothing he could do. Even if he pulled free of their grasp there was nowhere to run, no way to hide from Adrian in his own castle. Like it or not, Jensen just had to wait for rescue, confident that as soon as his tracer was activated they'd be in to extract him. Until then, he had to do what he did best.

He submitted.

His resolve nearly faltered when another guard pulled the lid off of a trap door in the center of the hall. Nothing in the queen's palace resembled such a thing. Jensen didn't even want to guess what lie below, and his mind rebelled, considering anything from the snapping jaws of a creature to metal spikes.

"No," he tried to say around the ring gag. "No!" he shouted, the sound garbled and muffled as they pushed him forward. Jensen looked up, caught Adrian's smile, slick and anticipatory while Peter just shook his head, so slight that if he hadn't been looking for, Jensen couldn't have caught it.

And then they pushed him into the hole in the ground. Jensen fell, slipped into darkness so thick and viscous it was like sliding into a stream filled with sludge. He floated, suspended in nowhere and nothing, and then all sensation dissipated. Jensen tried to blink, to wiggle his toes, anything, but his limbs didn't respond. He couldn't even feel his lungs inflate with air, hell he wasn't even sure if he were still breathing.

Adrian's technique for breaking his subs became quite clear. Jensen knew sensory deprivation could drive a person mad, had trained to withstand it on several levels. But nothing he'd endured could ever match the total nothingness of this Oubliette. Even when strapped down, blindfolded and ears plugged, Jensen at least had a sense of his own body. He had never felt like a floating soul, unable to move or to feel.

Would they even be able to find him? Trapped underground like this? For all Jensen knew his consciousness had been stripped of his body and taken somewhere else. Perhaps only Adrian knew where.

No, he had to stop thinking like this. But that was the problem, all he could do was think and dwell. He couldn't even count his heartbeat, his surefire trick for calming himself and finding his center. Instead of taking a deep breath, because he couldn't, Jensen ran through the multiplication table, taking comfort in the cold stark reality of the numbers.

The problem started when he couldn't remember the solution for seven times nine. Stupid of him to forget, but when had he last had the occasion to do math? Jensen tried to count it out, adding seven to seven, but he lost track of how many times he counted. He had no visual cues to rely on, couldn't speak the numbers aloud and he tried to move lips that suddenly didn't exist.

So stupid, he thought, Jared would know the answer.

Would they tell Jared, he wondered, if he died here? Or would his little brother never find out, just sit waiting by the comm for a call that never came? A vivid picture appeared in his mind, Jeff arriving at the apartment, ringing the chime to tell Jared how Jensen had met his end - a slave for some asshole who didn't understand the first thing about command.

Honestly, if he had died out in the field, none of the revelations would be pretty. Would they tell Jared he'd been assigned to make a pretty young girl fall in love with him so it would be easier for him to assassinate her father? Or that he was selling his body for money in the hopes of gathering information? Or that he had been loaned out to the senators for the dual duty of bodyguard and slut?

But they wouldn't tell Jared. Even though Jensen had made Ferris promise to let Jared know if Jensen wasn't coming back, she still couldn't tell him the intimate details of each mission. And often, those details were what damned him.

Stop it, Jensen thought. But he couldn't, his mind circling itself over and over, going from missions gone bad, to what would happen to Jared if he died. And then, there was Jeff.

He cared for Jeff, for the man who'd gone into the fire with him, accepted every instruction Jensen had given, and didn't even flinch at working with a scut, back when the mission really was just getting two of his people back. That was what made Jeff worthy, someone who'd take his submission for the gift it was, and not throw it back in his face.

But really, could Jensen see a life for the two of them? Could Jeff just sit back and wait for Jensen to come home, knowing Jensen's missions meant he was fucking someone else? And could Jensen be the one to sit back and wait, if Jeff continued in the Corps, continued soaring the stars without him, bound on Earth to just wait and hope. It wasn't like the UP let people register as master and sub either. Even if they both retired from the military no one would accept this, no one would acknowledge that any collar Jeff gave him would be worth more than any wedding ring.

Jensen didn't know how much time passed. It could have been hours, or minutes or days. He had no way to mark the time, no companions except for the unsavory bent to his thoughts, the way memories would come up out of nowhere and leave him aching with fresh pain.

And then he heard a voice other than his own thoughts.

"Rise and shine, little sub."

Even though it was Adrian's voice, Jensen latched onto it like a lifeline, eager to escape the twirling whirlwind of his own thoughts. He tried to open his eyes, to lick his lips and respond, but he'd been given back only his hearing, so all he could do was strain to hear what would be said next.

"Such a simple thing, isn't it? To hear, to see, to smell," Adrian sounded like he was musing to himself. "We take it for granted, really, until the ability is stolen away."

Jensen waited, knowing that now Adrian would tell him what he wanted of him, why he'd done this. He couldn't keep him like this forever, he just couldn't. Jensen refused to consider otherwise.

"What would you do, little sub, for the ability to see? Would you trade your tongue for it? Never speak again? I wonder."

For the briefest of moments, Jensen felt something, like he had a body again, like a puff of air against his cheek.

"What would you trade to be able to feel? How about your name? Such a dispensable thing, really."

And that explained why Peter allowed himself to be renamed. What had he traded his name for? Jensen wondered.

"Of course, I don't have to ask," Adrian mused. "I don't have to take anything in trade. And you know why, sub? Because I am the master. You exist for me. If you don't please me, well, there are many Oubliettes in my castle. Sometimes I forget to check them all."

If Jensen could move, he knew he'd shudder at that revelation. He didn't doubt for a second that Adrian would leave him like this, if Jensen didn't learn his pointed lesson. Adrian didn't just want obedience. He wanted to break Jensen apart and rebuild him into Adrian's image of what a perfect sub should be. Jensen wondered if any of the subs the Duke had broken had ever pleased him, or if he would find fault again and again.

"If I want you to feel pleasure," Adrian said, "You'll feel pleasure."

Jensen became aware of his cock, encased now in warm slick heat. He would have gasped if he could, but he could only feel that sensation, nothing else to get in the way.

"And if I want you to feel pain. . ."

No, no, Jensen wanted to cry, knowing what was coming. But he couldn't beg for Adrian to stop, couldn't even plead with his eyes. He'd been reduced to nothing more than a tool, unable to act on his own, a pretty doll for Adrian to pose as he saw fit. Or damage if he wanted.

The burning started at the soles of his feet, intense heat that would have him screaming if he could. Jensen struggled, threw his consciousness at the boundaries of his mind, desperate to move, to cry out, to stop this. But all he could do was feel, endure the pain like an unstoppable wave.

"There is no escape, sub, there is no rescue, there is only me."

And Adrian was everything.

***

Jeff caught himself again, as his chin attempted to connect with his chest. He'd been up for so long, he couldn't remember what it felt like to sleep, but his body kept trying to remind him. But there was no way he was going back up to his suite to sleep, not with the empty bed a constant reminder that Jensen should be beside him.

Gyllenhaal knelt on the other side of the room, one of the walls open, wires and machine guts spilled around her. She didn't look any closer to connecting the city to the scanner than she had this morning. Lieutenant Whitfield stood behind her, handing her whatever tool she asked for out of the crate at his side.

"Sir, you should really get some sleep," Chikezie said. Her sudden appearance caused him to jump and Jeff knew he was way past tired at that point. He should not have been taken by surprise.

"It's nothing another shot of Vivran won't cure," he said, attempting to give her a smile. Apparently it wasn't nearly so charming when he was unshaven and dark circles ringed his bloodshot eyes. Chikezie only frowned at him.

"You've had two already, sir. I can't in good conscious give you a third." Chikezie frowned. "There's nothing else you can do right now."

Jeff clamped his jaw shut before he yelled at her, told her there should fucking damn well be something he could do. Jensen was out there, wherever he was, probably waiting for Jeff to smarten up and activate his damn tracer, and they couldn't even do that much. He hated the not knowing, the waiting and hoping. But every hour that passed with no word made Jeff fear they may never learn what happened to Jensen.

The door to the sitting room shimmered open and the princess entered, her sub following holding a tray. It seemed it was her turn to come sit by his side. Claudia and Misha had left not too long ago, Misha's face streaked with tears. "This doesn't happen," Misha had said.

"We've brought refreshments for your team." Alona smiled as her sub placed the tray on a low table. He then moved to her side and slid to his knees.

Jeff didn't miss the stink-eye Chikezie was giving the two of them. Stars, if he did go up to grab some sleep could he be certain his team wouldn't antagonize the locals? "Thank you, princess," he said, hoping Chikezie caught the warning in the use of the girl's title.

She did. "Yes, thank you."

Alona smiled brightly at her. "I hope you enjoy the tye. It's nice to have warm just before bed."

Jeff eyed the steaming cups and knew when he was being managed. He snorted and pushed himself up out of the armchair. "Going to check in with Gyllenhaal, and then I'll catch a nap. You will comm me if there are any results," he told Chikezie.

"Yes, sir." She barely hid her smile in time.

He walked over to check the progress, watching for a moment as Gyllenhaal combed through some wiring from the wall. "How's it coming, Corporal?

"Fine, sir," she said in a low tone, not looking up.

That got him suspicious. "Gyllenhaal, look at me," he snapped.

She let the wires fall and turned tear streaked eyes up at him. Gyllenhaal wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve in an irritated gesture. "What if I can't get it?"

Jeff knelt and put his hand on her shoulder. "You can do this, Corporal," he told her, hoping to push aside some of her doubts, though he had some of the same fears. Despite the fact that everyone in Harmony seemed just comfortable with using the tech here, apparently no one save the queen really understood that it was technology. Poor Gyllenhaal didn't have so much as a manual to flip through. "Maybe you should get some rest too. Things will look fresh in the morning."

"I can't give up," she said.

"Hey, you're not giving up," Whitfield took the opportunity to say. "You're taking a god damn break."

Jeff flinched, annoyed at himself for letting the girl work so hard all day long. He should know better by now. What would Jensen think of him, not paying attention when a subordinate needed him? "All of you eat something and get some sleep. Alona, are there beds free for them to use?"

She nodded. "I will see to it."

So dismissed, Jeff managed to make his way back up to the suite he had shared with Jensen during these past weeks. The bedclothes were still rumpled, Jensen not having bothered to make the bed yesterday, since they were supposed to have been back on the Mercury by now. None of the cleaning subs had disturbed the room. Jensen's pack still sat propped against the window, waiting for him to pick it up and head out onto the tram.

Jeff sank onto the bed, letting his head fall into his hands. He felt like he had failed Jensen in the most spectacular fashion. Something had happened to him, someone had taken him away. The captain had asked him 'how much do you trust these people?' when he gave his last status report. It made sense of course, spirit Jensen away, and then pretend to give all sorts of help in finding him.

Years of war with the Confed had bred distrust in all of them, especially when truces and agreements usually meant nothing. Poor Katie's death was proof of that.

It came back to him with vivid clarity, seeing the information about the attack on the newsfeed, and praying that please, no, she wasn't hurt. He'd hoped that she could have survived, up and until he saw the images of the entire planet, devastated. For a long time afterward, he wondered if she could have gone off-planet for whatever reason, that she was alive somewhere and waiting for him. But Jeff knew she wouldn't, he knew she was waiting at their cabin for him to come home for a leave that had been consistently delayed. And she died for it.

This wasn't the same thing, and no matter how many times he repeated that to himself, Jeff didn't know how to believe it. Jensen was military; he knew how to take care of himself. Most importantly, he wasn't Jeff's wife, and this thing between them was brand spanking new.

Fuck, he was going in circles, mourning the loss of something that had barely begun when they weren't even sure what had happened to Jensen. Jeff kicked off his boots and crashed out on the bed, hoping that sleep would steal him away from the constant cycle of worry and regret. He closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn't dream.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Jeffrey, isn't this what you wanted?"

Katie used to call him that in bed, with a wink and her lips curled up in a grin. Jeff would tickle her back onto the pillows, asking if she preferred to be called "Katherine" instead. And then he would murmur her name against her skin until she couldn't remember his any more.

But he'd never seen her like this before - naked save for links of chains around her ankles and wrists, curled to one side on the bed, her eyes lowered in a seductive gaze, blond hair falling shimmering around her shoulders. "Why don't you just take what you want?"

"This isn't what I want!" Jeff protested, moving closer. He wanted to take her by the shoulders, shake her, demand to know where she had been all this time.

It was only as he got one knee up on the bed that he noticed her eyes. She stared at him out of moss-green eyes. Katie had had brown eyes. Jensen was the one with green eyes.

"If you don't take it, someone else will," Katie warned him.

And then the sharp shrill beeping of his comm had Jeff snapping awake. He floundered, caught in the tangled sheets, still not quite sure where he was. Jeff found the comm on the floor, must have unclipped from his belt during his tossing and turning. Honestly he never meant to sleep that long. He snapped it on.

"Morgan."

"Commander, it's Chikezie. You need to come to the Great Hall. The queen tried to reach you, but said you didn't answer. She was going to send a page. . ."

No, he wouldn't have seen the flashing of tele and Jeff never asked if the thing could be set for audio, though he assumed it could. "I'll be right there, Lieutenant." He snapped it shut, not wanting to ask for details. Jeff would deal with whatever it was when he got there.

And stars, he hoped it was Jensen, perfectly safe and sound.

***

Maggie hadn't expected to get her own room, she figured they'd stick the three of them in a single room with bunk beds. But the little kid who led the way showed them each to a different room, albeit all next to one another. He hadn't worn a collar, and the only sub she'd seen really was the one belonging to the princess, the tall one with the light blue eyes. He wasn't anything like what she expected, broad shouldered and muscled, he looked like he wouldn't let anyone tell him what to do. Except for the princess of course.

Honestly she was a bit disappointed. Where were the loincloths, the whips and chains?

Well, she was better off not having to deal with the distractions. Even now, lying on this sinfully soft bed, she could see patterns of circuits in the ceiling, the colors shifting into the combinations possible. Even when she closed her eyes the pattern repeated. No matter how tired she was, Maggie knew she wasn't getting any sleep.

Her boots in hand, she padded down the hallway in her socks, not wanting to wake her companions. Maybe there was one more thing she could try, at least before dawn anyway. She might be able to figure it out without having everyone watching her. The sitting room was only down the hall, and even though the door was closed, it opened when she touched it. Maggie sprang back from the shimmering effect. Honestly what was wrong with doors simply opening?

The lights flickered on as she entered, illuminating the dim room. She regarded her work, tsking at the unordered mess she'd left it all. Well, she wouldn't figure it out like this. Time to straighten up a bit. Maggie knelt and began putting everything in order, separating the 328 parts from the bio scanner. That first experiment had failed anyway.

"Someone's up late."

Maggie hadn't heard the person enter, so intent on examining the 328 circuitry board in her hands. She nearly dropped it, before looking up to regard her visitor. He was another one of the subs, with a blue collar and pants to match, hanging low on his hips. She felt herself blush at the sight of those tight abs, someone did a lot of crunches.

"Sorry," she said, looking back down at the board. "I couldn't sleep. I hate leaving a job undone."

He dropped down next to her, sitting cross-legged and leaning over to look at her work. "I'm surprised any of you is getting any sleep, what with Ackles missing."

Maggie frowned at him, something about his tone seemed off to her.

"So what is it you're trying to do anyway? Connect the bio scanner to the city computer? That's pretty fucking ambitious. What's it gonna do anyway? Boost the signal?"

"I'm hoping that by giving the city tech bio scanning capability it'll screw with anyone who's trying to jam our scanners. Just what the hell do you know about it?" She snapped back, wanting to know how this sub knew so much about their tech.

He gave her a surprised little grin, his blue eyes sparkling. "Corporal," he said after checking the label on her jumpsuit. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

"Um," she mumbled. "One of the subs?"

He laughed, color rising in his cheeks at her words. His hand went up to touch his collar, then just as quickly pulled away. "Can't blame you for thinking that. Let me introduce myself - Major Henry Tappen, Hank to my friends." He held out his hand for her to shake.

"Oh stars," she whispered, mortified. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. . ."

"Didn't know the UP sold me for access to the tech here?" he asked brightly, as if it was no big deal.

"No," Maggie said, shaking her head. "The terms of the trade agreement aren't public record yet. And I would have no reason to have access to them." She pushed the circuit board back into place in the wall. "I'm just a technician. Sir."

Tappen snorted. "Don't call me 'sir.' As you can see, it doesn't really apply anymore."

"Speaking of that," she began.

"He's asleep," Tappen clarified. "And I wanted to see how the search was going. The whole palace is freaking out about it, you know. I just couldn't sit and wait while Ian was out searching.

"And Ian is. . .?"

Tappen made a face. "My master. And one of the guards here. They've been scouring the city looking while I've been twiddling my thumbs. So, really, Corporal, if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

"Well, anything you know about the tech would. . ." Maggie stopped. She heard a low level beeping and turned to find out where it was coming from. When she had straightened up earlier, she'd put the bio scanner back together, intending to concentrate on figuring out the 328 tech first. Chikezie had left it set to Jensen's biorhythms, and now it was reacting.

"I didn't do it," Tappen said. "I swear."

Maggie pushed herself up and pulled up the holographic display. "I think we might have something. Do you know how the comm system works here?"

He gave her another grin. "Corporal, allow me to introduce you to the tele."


	20. Chapter 20

Normally Peter was grateful when his master turned his attentions to another sub, it meant he'd get a respite from the constant training and breaking in. It didn't always mean rest, since sometimes he was given to the guards or other nobles. Few had the same knack for torture as Master Adrian, for which Peter rejoiced.   
But his reprieve meant Jensen suffered instead, and Peter knew exactly what methods his master would employ. The idea of the Oubliette made him shudder, and he hadn't been in that thing for two years. He'd spent far too much time inside before that.

He'd worried at first that Master Adrian would make him watch. That he'd have Peter kneel, naked and bound, while he broke Jensen down just as he'd broken Peter on his first day in Pasdar. Or even worse, he'd have Peter help, make him take part in the breaking. It wouldn't be the first time, and still Peter feared being called down to the lower levels.

But when he'd reported to the baths for his daily grooming, where they would undo his cage and plug, giving him scant moment of freedom in which to bathe himself, the mistress there had told him Master Adrian did not require his services. He'd had to report to the Great Hall to serve with the other subs and his ass still ached from the experience. Luckily, without Master Adrian at dinner, he managed to slip away, not having to serve anyone.

Peter had learned, by now, the best ways around the castle to avoid the guards. He stayed away from places they liked, the baths, the dining halls and some parts of the gardens. It was rare he had the free moment to himself, of course. The freedom back home had been almost a torture of its own, knowing he'd be returning to this. And it had been bittersweet as well, since he'd only gotten it after being commanded to get close to Sub Jensen.

Of course, then he hadn't know what his master planned, had reported dutifully every night. He should have known it was more than simple curiosity on Master Adrian's part. But it had been so nice to enjoy being home for once, not being glued to his master's side or made an example of in front of the other subs. Peter had not questioned why, just soaked up the sunlight he sorely missed.

Peter spent the dinner hour in the gardens, despite the rain, he curled up beneath a willow tree, the boughs of full leaves hiding him from view. He'd probably be punished for being wet and dirty when he crawled to his master's bedroom for his evening duties, but Peter didn't care at the moment. He leaned against the tree, closing his eyes at finally being able to rest for a moment.

"Peter."

His eyes snapped open, and he looked around, wondering who had found him. But when he saw the leaves undisturbed, he shook his head. Hearing things now? Peter found his eyes drifting closed again, almost as if he couldn't help himself.

"Levi."

No one called him that here, he had just broken his family of using that name. Peter doubted any of the other subs even knew his true name; it had been so long since it still belonged to him. Adrian had taken it that first day, the first of many things he had taken for his own, leaving Peter with little enough.

He must be dreaming, he thought, caught in a doze between waking and sleeping. "What?" he asked, though his lips didn't move.

"Help me," she said, and it was a woman's voice. How strange, he'd have thought to have heard Jensen, begging for his help. It was Peter's fault he'd been captured, after all.

"Who are you?"

"Come to me." And behind his eyes Peter could see the place, a door behind the throne, opening at his touch. "Tonight."

"I can't," he said, this time opening his eyes. The drops of rain continued to splatter against the leaves of the tree, but it was dark beyond that. Night had fallen with him hidden, and he crept out from his sanctuary, wincing as his balls protested the movement, caught between the device Master Adrian called the humbler. It made it so he could only be truly comfortable on his knees.

Peter hated having to wear it all the time, but mostly because Adrian didn't trust his subs not to disobey. He had to rely on devices like this. It insulted Peter's original training. But then he'd had to be completely retrained after his collaring.

As he crawled up the stone stairway, the crooked one the guards kept away from for the most part, Peter fingered his collar, remembering how he'd hoped for so much more when he went on the market. So many other subs seemed so happy with their owners. Peter couldn't remember ever feeling anything but hate. That was why he'd asked Jensen if he loved his master. Were things so different in the stars?

Peter knelt outside the door to his master's bedchamber, waiting for his summons. He expected to be chastened for the mud streaked on his calves, but really, Master Adrian would delight in another excuse to punish him.

"He's not there."

He stiffened at the voice, turning to see another sub coming down the hallway. They weren't supposed to speak to each other at all, another rule that was normally enforced with gags. Leela frequently broke the rules, though, part of why she had been chosen for Peter's use yesterday. He blushed at the sight of her.

"He's still with the new sub. You know him, he'll keep the poor sod up all night."

Peter remembered vividly. Something ached in his chest, and he nearly gaped at his own jealously. He wanted Adrian to leave him alone, and yet, he desperately wanted to be owned, to belong to someone. Despite the contract, one that Adrian ignored anyway, Peter felt cast adrift.

"You should get out of the hall before the guards do their sweep," she reminded him, not phased by his refusal to answer her. But Leela was right, the last thing he wanted was to be caught by the guards now.

"Thank you," he said, causing Leela to stare at him with wide eyes. Peter gave her a sad smile, and then turned to follow her back to their cells.

Once inside, the door would not open until morning or his master ordered it, so Peter often avoided his cell until very late. The room was hardly larger than a small bath chamber back home, just wide enough for a pallet to sleep on, with a toilet and sink in the far corner. Dark stone surrounded him, from the floor, up the very high walls, to the only window, too high for him to reach. Sometimes a shaft of sunlight would make it through, but Peter was usually out of here before that.

He slid underneath the covers, curling up tightly in defense against the devices on his body, though Peter always felt some discomfort. He'd learned to sleep despite the pain a long time ago.

And then the voice came. "Soon. Come to me."

"I can't," he told her. The door wouldn't open until morning, and he would have one hell of a time sneaking anywhere with his balls bound.

"Trust in me."

"Who are you?" he asked again.

"Harmony."

How was that possible? Peter wondered if missing dinner had caused him to hallucinate.

"I am in every home, every wall and door." Her voice seemed so far away. "Please, help me, Levi."

He opened his mouth to refuse her a third time, but something stopped him. Peter realized he wasn't dreaming anymore, that he could hear the tip tap of the rain against the window, could feel the softness of his pallet, the only comfort in his entire cell. "Why me?" he whispered, not expecting to receive an answer in his mind.

"Because you're the only worthy sub in the castle. And you need forgiveness."

As the words echoed through his head Peter felt the humbler come loose. He kicked off the covers and sat up, marveling when the cage around his cock came apart when he touched it. Peter curved his hand around his dick, shocked to touch smooth skin instead of rings of metal. It had been so long since he had control over his own body, and at any other time, he might lose himself in this, might spend the whole night playing with himself. No, Peter had a job to do.

He stood, grinning at being able to stand without pain, and walked to the entrance. The door shimmered open at his touch. Peter checked the hallway before venturing down to the nearest lift. It was a risk, since he could encounter guards there, but he put his trust in Harmony, hoping she'd divert any lift that carried anyone else.

Peter didn't know how long he had slept before the dream, but he knew it must be very late. No one was in the Great Hall, except for the two subs sleeping in their cages. He moved quickly to the throne, keeping his steps light, so as not to wake them. The wall behind the throne shimmered as soon as he got close, and Peter ran inside, relieved at having made it without catching any attention.

His relief didn't last long. The room behind the throne wasn't empty, there was a huge chair in the center, made out of gleaming silver metal, with a sub sitting straight up in it. Her arms looked soldered to the chair, like gloves encased to her wrists. Her head slumped to the side, eyes covered by goggles, and long tubes extruded from her neck. The walls were all screens, all showing different areas of the district, and several rooms within the palace.

He recognized this place, knew it as one of the secrets given to the royal families. Peter just never expected to have the privilege of entering a control room.

Peter ignored the screens, moving to the side of the girl. He touched her upper arm, so as not to startle her with his presence, but her skin was cold to the touch. "Oh Harmony," he whispered, watching the machinery retract from the body. The sub was dead, her life force drained out into this strange set up, so different from his mother's control center. Peter lifted her from the chair and stretched her out on the floor, her eyes already closed.

The hate he felt for Adrian rose up in his belly, an anger so strong Peter wanted to slam his fist against something. This wasn't right. A master shouldn't use a sub to the point of death! The role of a master was to protect and guide. And Adrian didn't know the first thing about that. He didn't deserve Peter's loyalty or his submission.

"Come." Harmony's voice again. "Before it is too late. Help me to return."

Peter eyed the chair uneasily, it had killed the girl after all. But he needed to trust Harmony. He sat in her place, the chair a warm contrast to how cold her body was. It reminded him of the warmth back home, how it emanated from everything while here in Pasdar every wall was cold to the touch. As he slid his hands on the armrest, the answer came to him – Pasdar was cold because it was cut off from Harmony. Her warmth could not reach here.

And then the connection was made, snapping inside himself, Peter threw his head back, the half-helmet covering his face and eyes. "I won't take your life, Levi," she whispered. "I just need you as a conduit." Her voice was so much stronger now, filled with life and laughter, both of which were missing here.

"How did he do it?" Peter asked her. "Cut you off from yourself?"

He could hear the distaste in her voice as she responded. "He misused the collar of the unwilling. It was meant only for lawbreakers, you understand. And then he forced those poor subs here, to power the limbs of the city, taking a role that should be mine alone. He could not push me out completely, but neither could I act."

"How many subs died for this?" Peter asked, horrified at her revelation.

"Too many," she responded. "This is not what I intended, when I remade the city. I wanted every sub to have a master like my own, to be loved as I was. There will be justice."

Peter hoped so, his throat burning for the lives lost here. It should not have happened, he thought, feeling the tears sting at his eyes. They needed to make it right.

"We will," she said. "Contact your mother, Levi, there are plans to put into place."

He closed his eyes, knowing instinctively what to do. He and Harmony had become one for the moment, and Peter felt himself expand, stretching out to encompass the entire city. No man could split that far, could have his consciousness spread out to the far corners of the city, not for long and live. It was Harmony who carried him, and Peter held on tightly as he made the connection.

"Mother?"

***

Jeff pulled his boots on when he got inside the lift, not wanting to waste precious time when he could be sprinting down the hall. He felt discombobulated, his uniform rumpled, his belt shifted off to the side, missing some of the pouches he'd normally have off-ship. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing it was standing up in patches, but he wasn't about to take the time to wet it down. Not when he could be close to finding Jensen.

When he got to the Great Hall it seemed that everyone had gotten the memo except him. The queen sat in a padded armchair, surrounded by Fredric, Alona and her sub, Colin, Guard Ian and Major Tappen of all people. Gyllenhaal, Chikezie and Whitfield were in a group to the side, all of them staring up at the large floating screen in the center of the room. Jeff looked up and boggled at seeing Peter staring at them.

"What the hell is going on here?" he finally asked, getting everyone's attention.

"Sir," Gyllenhaal began, "Not too long ago the bio scanner began to react. I contacted Lieutenant Chikezie first, since she is the expert on using biorhythms."

"And we found that it wasn't picking up the biorhythms. It had found the tracer," Chikezie put in. "Only we weren't familiar enough with the city to know the location."

"When they contacted me." The queen took up the story. Jeff felt like he was watching a tennis match, his head darting from face to face. "I was on my way down when I received a tele from Peter."

Jeff looked up at the floating image of the ex-prince. "Well, are you going to take up the story now?"

"Commander," Peter said, his brow pinched and furrowed. "I'm sorry. Jensen is here, in Pasdar castle. Duke Adrian took him against his will. With my help."

"So, what, you've gotten an attack of conscience now?" Jeff snapped. "Do you think by telling us where he is that makes it all better?"

"No," Peter shook his head, and Jeff thought he saw tears in those eyes. "Nothing I can do will make it better, not with what Adrian's done. But I couldn't do anything before, not until Harmony made it possible for me to contact you. Mother, he's violated her laws, made a mockery of submission and our core values. He's been killing subs to do so."

The queen stood, her hands clenched into fists. "We will stop him."

Peter looked off into the distance, his eyes going unfocused for a moment. "Harmony says if you come quickly, she can hold all the doms in their bedchambers. Make it so the doors won't open. You can take the castle."

"And where is Jensen?" Jeff asked, fearing the answer.

"With Duke Adrian," Peter said, voice dropping. "In one of his dungeons."

"So locking him in with Jensen isn't going to do Jensen much good," Jeff snapped, vibrating with the need to do something, fast.

"Which is why you must come quickly," Peter said.

There was no time to marshal his forces, to get the people he wanted from base camp to the town and briefed on the situation. He'd have to depend on the queen. Jeff turned, knowing the look on his face had to be pleading.

"I will summon all the guards," she stated. "We will depart from the gold platform within the hour."

"We?" Jeff asked.

Michelle turned to face him. "I am coming with you. This is a crime of high treason in my city. It will not go unpunished."

Jeff nodded. He pitied anyone who went up against the queen.

***

Maggie resisted the urge to double-check her regulation sidearm yet again. Their weapons had been returned to them just before boarding the trams that would take them to war. Hers felt heavy in its holster, reminding Maggie that she was going far out of her area of expertise. It had been a while since she had to worry about entering combat directly.

Of course, her weapon looked tiny and wimpy next to the tall spears the guards carried as they lined up, ready to board the trams. The queen walked among them, looking amazing in gold plated armor, like some warrior from an old 2D sci-fi movie. Maggie would not want to go up against her in a fight. The guards seemed on edge, and her presence calmed the ranks. Maggie wondered what the queen said as she walked by.

She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned to see Major Tappen join the ranks, dressed in a uniform identical to that of the guards, although he was the only one in a collar. He walked up to another guard and grinned at him. Maggie edged closer to hear them.

"Don't make me regret this, Henry," the guard sighed. "By all rights I should send you back to our rooms."

"Hah, you already gave permission, you can't take it back!" Tappen all but vibrated as he spoke, looking eager for action. He was, Maggie remembered, assigned to the Ground Corps. Hand to hand combat wouldn't be out of the norm for him at all.

To her surprise, he leaned forward and curved his hands around the other man's face, holding them forehead to forehead as he whispered, "Ian, trust me, I've probably seen more combat in the last year than you have your entire life. If anything I should be worried about you."

Maggie turned away, feeling more than a little embarrassed at having eavesdropped. That was a private moment. Though it did make her reconsider her earlier assessment of Major Tappen. He had seemed bitter at being 'sold' as part of the treaty, but he apparently got along with his master just fine. Maybe, she thought, it was more because the choice had been robbed from him before he could decide to stay. What an awkward way to begin a relationship! She sighed, not like she understood how they did things here.

"You ready, Gyllenhaal?" Whitfield said, coming up behind her with Chikezie, who had slung a medic bag over her shoulder. "When's the last time you've seen any action anyway?"

"Got caught in the crossfire while repairing the shields on station 1089, bout two years ago now," she told him, rubbing her shoulder as she spoke. Sometimes Maggie could still feel the laser burn.

Whitfield winced and looked slightly abashed. She wondered when the last time he'd seen combat.

"All right people," Morgan said, gathering the three of them. "You're with me. Our objective is to retrieve Lieutenant Ackles. The queen's guards will be taking care of Adrian and any men he'll have with him. We'll have a squad of them with us, but you all listen to my orders first."

"Yes, sir," they responded.

Morgan led them to their tram, along with the guards, including Tappen and his master. Maggie tried not to stare, but they were actually beautiful together, Tappen with his golden hair and open smile, and Ian with his dark curls and intense brow. They complimented each other. Huh, she thought, she might make sense of this planet after all.

The trams all took off together, although they lacked the same order as UP shuttles, springing up like insects at a picnic. Maggie felt a lurch in her stomach, the odd disconnect of seeing that she was moving, but not feeling it.

One of those weird screens popped into existence in the middle of the tram, the queen's face appearing on one side, the other having the man who Morgan called Peter on the other.  "Peter has mapped out where each of the trams will land," the queen said. His face disappeared to reveal a complicated looking map. "We will subdue any guards we find. All prisoners will be taken to the castle's throne room, where Peter will meet us. Assume any subs you find will be hostile at first. Most wear the collar of the unwilling."

There were gasps from the guards, and Maggie looked over curious. She'd have to ask later what that meant.

"Commander Morgan," the queen went on, "Will rescue Sub Jensen. Since we know Duke Adrian is with him you are permitted to use lethal force if needed. If not, I'd prefer to bring the man to trial for the evils he has committed."

"I will do my best," Morgan told her.

As the screens winked out of existence, Morgan stood at the head of the tram. "Listen up. Your people," he turned to one of the guards, most likely the leader of them by the larger epaulettes on his shoulder. "Should clear the way for us. Take down Adrian for all I care, but me and my people are going straight for Jensen."

The leader nodded at Morgan. She stood and began discussing strategy with the rest of the guards, going over the expected layout of the castle and where they were landing. The dungeon looked to be underground on the map, so they were landing on the ground floor and fighting their way down. Maggie watched as the map appeared again, and narrowed her eyes, trying to memorize the path the guard had chosen. They had to be prepared for anything.

Jensen's life depended on them. She hoped they could do this, a patched together team that had never worked together before, under two separate commanders. Maggie touched her sidearm again, reassuring herself with its presence. It was no fancy staff, but all she needed was one clear shot. Hold on, Ackles, she thought, we're coming.


	21. Chapter 21

The entire time he'd been surrounded by nothing but darkness and silence, Jensen thought he'd do anything to get out of the Oubliette. He'd have to revise his thoughts on anything, because even once out of the horror, he still didn't want to give Adrian anything. Of course, it didn't matter what he wanted, it never did. Jensen only had to submit and to hold on.

When Adrian pulled him out, even the air hurt his skin as Jensen shivered in his nakedness. The cold burned him, Adrian's voice boomed too loud and the light caused his eyes to water and redden. For a brief moment, he felt his navel piercing flare with warmth, and he hoped. But as time went on with nothing, Jensen found his hope sinking.

Adrian decided he wanted to put Jensen through his paces, and yes, Jensen knew what that meant in terms of horses - intimately so from his upbringing. He just didn't expect to have a metal bit gag placed on him. Stars, he thought, this place doesn't even have horses, how the hell could Adrian be into pony play?

"I expect silence," Adrian had told him, attaching a lead to the straps of the gag. "On your hands and knees. You are not allowed the privilege of standing."

Jensen figured Adrian liked the way the bit gag strapped around his head and over his forehead, effectively caging Jensen's face. His identity, the part of him that was unique was bound, made into just another possession by the locked leather bridle. He dropped to his knees and followed when led to a lift that seemed to go down forever before Adrian pulled him into a dungeon, one that looked no different than the rest of the castle, really, except for having a larger assortment of toys at hand.

The guards at the door let it close, leaving Jensen locked in with only Adrian. He kept his head down, concentrating on not biting down too hard on the gag. Jensen forced himself to be in the moment, focusing completely on how he felt, the cold metal between his teeth, the hard stone that abraded his knees. It kept the apprehension at bay, and it was almost a relief, to finally be able to feel after his isolation, even if what he felt was pain.

It didn't help when ropes appeared out of nowhere, wrapping around his wrists and ankles like tentacles, pulling Jensen up off the floor and spreading him open, face down. He'd forgotten how quickly things could change, how the technology changed all the rules. Adrian didn't have to so much as lift a finger to have Jensen at his mercy. Yet, this was still better than being imprisoned in the Oubliette.

"Mmm, you'd certainly look pretty on display in my Great Hall," Adrian mused, stepping back and regarding Jensen as if he were a work of art instead of a living breathing person. "Although you require just a bit more ornamentation."

He pulled something off of the wall, and only when he got close did Jensen see a wicked looking pair of nipple clamps. They bit sharply into his nipples, Adrian tugging on the metal chain to pull them even tighter. And only then did Jensen see the third clamp, trailing from a long chain attached to the first set.

"No," he tried to say through the gag.

Adrian gave him a smirk, but didn't stay his hand, snapping the clamp just under the head of Jensen's cock. Jensen screamed against the bite, the pain sizzling up his spine. He pulled against the ropes, but he was held tight.

"There we go." Adrian seemed satisfied. He ran a hand down Jensen's bare balls, squeezing tightly. "I'll save the extra clamps for later."

Jensen closed his eyes briefly. He'd never been a pain slut, not like Tom. But he'd have to channel some of that, try to find the release in the agony.

Adrian walked to the wall of toys, regarding the implements, running his fingertips along them until he lifted a long single tailed whip. He gave it an experimental flick, the tail undulating as it cracked against the stone floor. "I saw, you realize."

Jensen looked up, watching as Adrian moved closer, the whip dragging behind him.

"When Albaney single-tailed my boy, your master hid your face," Adrian sneered. "Coddled you. You should have been made to face it." He snapped the whip again, the crack reverberating in the open space.

Adrian only had half of the story, it was the blood Jensen hated, the acrid smell of metal that he could taste at the back of his tongue. The whip itself he didn't fear, only what it could do in the wrong hands. If Adrian wanted Jensen to cower, he'd have more luck with the shiny scalpels that hung on the wall behind him. Of course, he didn't know that, and Jensen liked to keep it that way.

"But we'll work our way up to this," Adrian promised, using the handle of the whip to tilt Jensen's face upward, forcing him to meet Adrian's gaze. "Green," Adrian breathed, still so shocked to see the color of Jensen's eyes. "What are you, sub? Not one of us, but something tells me you aren't one of them either."

He put the whip back on the wall, and Jensen tensed, fearing him going for one of the blades. Instead Adrian flicked his wrist, and the ropes holding Jensen upright spread his legs wider, until he could feel the burn up his inner thighs, and then they pulled some more. Jensen groaned, the movement jostling the clamps, pain flaring up again, before dulling only slightly.

Adrian circled him, fingers probing at Jensen's entrance. Unlike the rough treatment of Jensen's cock and balls, this touch was almost gentle. Adrian slid inside, his finger slick as it curved upward, hitting Jensen's prostate with unerring accuracy. The pleasure sparked movement, and the pain swung wildly again. Jensen cried out, the two so mixed up on his body that he wasn't quite sure what to feel.

"I've told you I can give you pleasure," Adrian whispered, his voice low and sensual. Jensen had to strain to hear him. "You know I can give pain. And I can take it all away. Were you fond of the Oubliette, boy?"

Jensen stiffened, remaining as still as possible. His muscles strained in the awkward position, and he ached everywhere. And yet the more Adrian massaged him on the inside, the harder his cock swelled.

Adrian pulled his fingers out, and then something cold slithered in. Jensen tried to pull away, squirming as that thing entered his body. First it was cold inside him, then it began to warm, getting hotter and hotter. If that wasn't enough, it began to swell, stretching his insides until he felt so full, as full as having a very large cock up his ass. Jensen writhed, but no matter which way he moved, the thing moved with him, setting up a tapping against his prostate.

"Do you like that?" Adrian chuckled. "It's my own invention. I call it the Winder."

"Get it out," Jensen growled in his throat, his words unintelligible. He could find no relief, could not sink into pain or pleasure, couldn't let the thrum of vibration lull him into meditation because just when he got used to one rhythm, the damn thing changed. And it seemed to be getting larger.

And Adrian, damn him, seemed perfectly happy to stand back and watch. He cupped his own crotch, rubbing against his erection obscenely. "The nice thing about the Winder," he started, undoing the laces on his pants and freeing his cock, stroking down the swollen length, "is that it can be worn for a very long time. It can even move to accommodate other intrusions."

"No." Jensen shook his head as he cried out. He couldn't take Adrian and that thing at the same time; he couldn't bear it.

Then Adrian moved into place, grasping Jensen's hips and pulling him back on his cock. Jensen yelled against the gag at the sensation, too full, too fast, and the thing kept vibrating.

A pounding at the door had Adrian pulling away, cursing under his breath. Jensen had a moment's reprieve, but the Winder still coiled inside him, and the clamps swung with the movement.

"Sir!" A guard's muffled voice made it's way through the door. "We're under attack!"

"What?" Adrian barked. He tucked himself in and slid his hand over the door. It didn't move. Jensen would have laughed at the baffled expression on his face if he were in a position to do anything but writhe and moan.

"Guard, answer me!" Adrian shouted, kicking at the door. "Open, damn you!"

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Jensen strained to hear, remaining as still as possible, but he could only hear his own labored breathing. And then the door did shimmer open, revealing not Adrian's guard, but a group of guards in the queen's uniform.

The one in front shot a blast from his spear, knocking Adrian back on his ass. Then the room streamed with them, the guards shoving their way in, and making sure Adrian stayed down.

"Fuck, Jensen," and that was Jeff. Jensen turned his head to look at him and their eyes met. He burned with shame at being caught like this, bound against his will, and yet hard and leaking precome. "Get this off of him," he shouted, his arms sliding around Jensen's waist to catch him as the ropes released him.

Jeff tugged at the straps on the bit gag, his hands trembling. Jensen spit out the metal bit and coughed, needing to get the taste out of his mouth. "Get it out of me," he gasped, shuddering at the Winder continued to pound at his insides.

"What is it?" Jeff helped Jensen slide to the floor, and this time the stone gave like the spongy material in the queen's palace, cushioning their bodies.

Jensen reached between his legs, frantic to just get it out now. But he couldn't grab a hold of the slippery thing. "He put something in me," he gasped, unable to catch his breath.

"Easy, Jensen," Jeff soothed. "You're bleeding!" The clamps had pulled off of his nipples, leaving his chest marked with dots of blood.

Jensen released the one still stubbornly clinging to his dick and sighed in relief. "Jeff, just get it out, it hurts," he whispered.

Jeff shook his head, but one hand slid behind Jensen's balls, probing his entrance gently. The Winder stopped its vibrating and slithered into Jeff's waiting hand. He looked at the thing in shock, a silver egg-shaped sphere before throwing it across the room to land with a crack against the wall.

"Anything else?" Jeff snarled. "What else did that bastard do to you?"

Jensen shook his head, his body sore. He just wanted to drop into a bed and rest for a week. "Can we just go?" he murmured.

"Sir!" a voice interrupted.

Jensen looked up at Lt. Chikezie and blushed, not sure how much she had seen. He buried his face against Jeff's chest, wincing at how the normally comforting stubble actually hurt when it rubbed up against his skin. Everything seemed too vivid after his time in the Oubliette.

"Lieutenant?" Jeff turned to her.

"Let me treat him. I have the standard anti-infective and pain reliever."

"He has an issue with pain medication."

"Just with Harmony's pain medication," Jensen corrected. "I've had the cocktail before."

Chikezie gave him a tight smile. "It'll just take a moment." Then the injection was against his arm and Jensen felt the damn pinprick. He never felt the pinpricks before.

"Commander, we need to bring the duke to justice," one of the guards said. "But we'll be fighting our way out of the dungeons. Can you carry Sub Jensen? We'll form a circle to protect you."

"Just give me a damn sidearm," Jensen grumbled. "I can shoot."

Jeff, to his surprise, took him at his word, pulling his own weapon from his belt and dropping it in Jensen's hands. Jensen slid it open, checked the clip and slipped on the safety. He nodded. Only then did Jeff scoop him up into his arms. They were ready to get the hell out of here.

***

They met little resistance on the way back up to the throne room, most of the guards already subdued on the way down. Even so, Jeff was impressed with the steady way Jensen held his weapon, never looking away from their goal, fingers hovering on the trigger. He felt so much lighter in Jeff's arms, despite being held for a little over 24 hours. Not like Jensen had a lot of flesh to lose, being nothing but pure muscle.

Jeff had kept reminding the others that Jensen was a soldier, but he realized he had been so caught up in Jensen his sub, his lover, that he'd forgotten that fact himself. Jensen's focus now, despite how tired he had to be feeling, proved that point. Jeff knew none of the other Corpsmen would forget this.

When they arrived at the throne room, it seemed that the queen had already gotten things started. She stood before the throne, her armor gleaming, the light in the darkness as she held a golden sword. Subs with silver collars knelt with foreheads on the ground before her. All she needed was Adrian, and the guards pushed him forward, arms bound behind his back.

"What is the meaning of this?" Adrian snapped. "How dare you come into my home and accost me?"

The look on the queen's face was like frost. "I find your indignation ridiculous, especially when we've found Sub Jensen in your dungeon, against his will, I might add."

Adrian snorted. "You say that as if they have wills."

Jeff gripped Jensen closer, noticing how white Jensen's knuckles got as they tightened around the gun.

"I am not here to argue with you. I, Queen Michelle Tal charge you, Duke Adrian Pasdar with violating Harmony's laws. I call the court to settle the question."

Those floating screens flickered to life again, this time giant-sized and along the sloped ceiling of the throne room. Jeff had to crane his head to see the rest of the court reflected there: Duke Leonard and Alisha, Claudia and Misha, Duchess Rachel and Amanda. They didn't seem surprised, so Jeff guessed Michelle must have contacted them beforehand.

Adrian stared up at the screens, his jaw dropping. Then he turned very red in the face before shouting, "Then I lay a counter charge. The queen harbored aliens who only pretended to learn our ways, who arrived in Harmony with every intent to deceive us!"

"What do you mean, man?" Leonard asked, frowning down at Adrian.

"Commander Morgan is no more Jensen's master than I am," Adrian snapped. "Jensen told this to my sub Peter himself."

"While having a reaction to pain medication," Jensen snapped under his breath, but to both their surprise, his words were picked up and amplified throughout the room.

All eyes turned on Jeff and Jensen. Jeff realized he still carried Jensen when it probably would have been appropriate to set him down. He couldn't let him go now.

Michelle looked up at the others. "Shall we deal with this question first and then review Duke Adrian's crimes?"

"Is this even a question?" Claudia snapped. "Can anyone doubt Commander Morgan is truly Jensen's master?"

"Not all of us have had the luxury of playing with them," Leonard drawled. "I'm more concerned with the allegations of deception."

This couldn't go anywhere good, Jeff thought. Adrian had it right, yet so wrong at the same time. Yes, Jensen had only pretended to be his sub for the sake of the mission, to save two other people, but over the past few weeks things had changed.

"Sub Jensen," Rachel said. "Can you offer an explanation?"

Jensen put a hand on Jeff's chest, and he took the hint, setting Jensen down so he could stand on his own two feet while he addressed the charges against him. Even nude, he exuded a certain strength. "We have never had any intention to deceive you," Jensen began. "We sought to honor your ways, which are so very different from our own."

"Do you deny," Adrian sputtered, "That you were assigned to Commander Morgan specifically for the purpose of recovering his subs?"

"No, I don't deny it," Jensen said softly, but the sound carried throughout the silence in the room. "But that doesn't mean that I haven't done my duty. From the moment I became his sub I have belonged solely to Commander Morgan. The terms of our contract were clear right from the beginning, and not the business of anyone else."

Jeff stayed silent, trusting Jensen to find the right arguments, to know the way this world worked more intimately than Jeff could ever understand. 

"Still, you intended to deceive us," Adrian said, struggling against his arm bindings.

"Did you ask?" Jensen tilted his head to one side. "Deception implies lies. Trickery. I answered every question honestly, and if the queen had asked, I would have simply told her."

Adrian sneered in Jensen's direction. "Easy to say now."

"Enough," Michelle snapped. "To my reckoning your claims have been answered. Commander Morgan has presented him as his sub, and Jensen is his sub. The length of time involved shouldn't matter. I call the vote of the rest of the court."

"Claim answered," Claudia spoke up first.

"Agreed," Rachel put in.

Duke Leonard remained silent for a moment, his lips pressed together. "I agree that the question of who Sub Jensen belongs to has been answered. I can't say whether Morgan's people intended the deception. Our future dealings with them should be closely watched."

"Noted." Michelle placed one hand on the back of the throne. "Now we shall address the claims against Duke Adrian."

Jeff had to admit, she had great timing. As she spoke, a door shimmered open behind the throne, revealing Peter, holding the limp body of a girl in his arms. He pushed himself forward, face pale, dark circles under his eyes. Peter let the body down gently right in front of the throne, and it was clear it was just a body – her chest didn't rise and fall, her eyes stayed half-shut, limbs falling where Peter placed them.

"This is but one of his crimes," Peter gasped out, his voice hoarse.

"What is Harmony's name has happened here?" Leonard demanded to know. Jeff wondered how much detail showed on his screen.

Peter looked up at the screens. "Duke Adrian has been subverting Harmony's will. She is not the first sub to have died for his whims. I found her connected to the chair in the secret room."

Connected? Jeff took it that Peter didn't mean bound with chains or ropes. No, this connection meant something else, something that had killed the girl.

"A sub? In the command chair?" Rachel blurted.

"A sub wearing the collar of the unwilling," Leonard's voice boomed throughout the room. "All the silver-collars in this room?"

"Belong to Adrian," Michelle confirmed. "A collar that is only to be used for criminals. For punishment."

"Peter wears the black," Leonard noted.

Peter hung his head for a moment, a pink flush rising on his nude body. "He tricked me into taking it." He swallowed, unable to look at anyone.

"Levi," Michelle said softly. "Tell them."

Jeff's jaw dropped at that - the queen had known?

"Five years ago," Peter began, his voice sounding like broken glass. "Duke Adrian threatened to invoke the Multitudes Law."

The other members of the court gasped out loud at that. Jeff raised his hand, "Can you explain that for the five of us who don't know what that is?"

Peter gave him a small smile. "Of course, Commander. The law states that the ruler of Harmony must own and protect the largest number of subs in the city. No member of the court may have more subs. But Adrian had acquired enough subs to match my mother's count and had another under negotiations."

"So," Jensen put in thoughtfully, "If he had more than the queen, that would make him de facto ruler of Harmony?"

Peter shook his head. "Not quite. He would need the agreement of the court, or," Peter hesitated, his voice dropping again. "He could take the throne by force."

Jeff didn't need to have Jensen's intuition to know what Adrian had threatened. 

"He told me if I went under contract with him, he's drop the negotiations with the other, and not bring the point up to the court." Peter finally lifted his head, staring straight at his master. "I was a fool to agree."

Michelle put her hand on her son's shoulder. Her eyes showed her pain for only a moment, before that cold mask was back in place. "You all know the law. No sub may be forced, coerced, or tricked into signing a contract. Adrian is guilty of this."

"Why didn't you do anything before now?" Jensen asked. He looked about ready to fall over, his legs trembling to keep him up. Jeff moved beside him and put a steadying arm around the other man's waist, hoping to give support.

"I couldn't intervene unless Peter contested the contract. He'd signed in good faith, had kept the terms for five years."

"And yet Duke Adrian still amassed his power," Peter said. "Using subs to cut off his district from Harmony's soul."

"You useless slut!" Adrian shouted, seemingly unable to restrain himself any longer. "I took you in, I trained you properly, and you turn on your master like this?"

Peter opened his mouth, to respond, to yell, who knew what he was going to say. His hands flew to his collar and Peter dropped to his knees, choking and gagging.

"No!" Michelle shouted.

The guards tackled Adrian to the ground, and still Peter fought for breath. Jeff tightened his hold on Jensen, knowing that he couldn't help at that moment, though he wanted just as badly to pound Adrian's face in. A hand rose triumphantly from the ground with a tiny device, reminding Jeff of the one used to control the vibrator. Tappen stood up - he'd been the one to snatch the device - and handed it to Ian, who turned it off.

Peter started to take in air, his gasps no longer labored. He still held on to his collar with both hands, his face flushed a dark red. His mother knelt beside him, her face still not back to the cool mask Jeff had grown accustomed to seeing.

"I think he had it around his wrist," Tappen said.

"Search him for any more devices," Michelle snapped. She slid her finger along the side of Peter's collar and it came off as Peter pulled at it. He stared down at the black strip of leather in shock. "I call this contract null and void," she said in a whisper.

"You have no right!" Adrian shouted. Guards held him back from charging at her.

"I have every right!" Michelle drew herself to her feet, her dark eyes blazing. "I am queen here. I have kept Harmony's principles. You have not." She snapped her fingers, and the silver metal collars snapped off of the still kneeling subs. They hadn't moved at all during the commotion, completely ignored Peter gasping for his life. Jeff wondered if that was a frequent occurrence here in Adrian's district.

Once the collars dropped off, though, they started to move, clutching their necks and staring up at the queen in shock. Some stood and ran for the door. When guards moved to block them, Michelle ordered them to stand aside. Jeff didn't blame them, if he'd been held against his will for years, he'd have run too.

"You bitch," Adrian snapped.

Jeff's ire finally snapped. "You just tried to murder her son in front of her.  You're lucky you're still standing."

Michelle held up one hand, stopping Jeff in his rant. He clenched one hand into a fist, just waiting for an excuse to slam it across Adrian's chiseled face.

"I have seen enough," Leonard said. "I vote we have Harmony choose his fate."

"I agree," Claudia chimed in. "It seems appropriate, since he's broken her laws."

"Duchess Rachel?"

Rachel nodded, her eyes wide as she regarded Adrian with disbelief. "Yes. I can't believe he. . ." she stopped and Jeff realized how young she really was, the youngest of the court. She hadn't seen cruelty for cruelty's sake before. Jeff could tell her stories. "Let Harmony decide."

Michelle nodded. She clasped her hands together and bowed her head. "Harmony, we ask you to punish this man who has spurned your rules and killed subs for his own ends."

Jeff waited, holding his breath. He felt Jensen tense beside him, but didn't risk looking at him, too worried about what Harmony would decide to do.

Much like the choosing, a bright light surrounded Adrian, causing his guards to back away. He screamed, his voice full of agony. Not nearly enough, Jeff thought, not enough at all.

When the light faded away, Adrian had dropped to his knees, panting as he struggled to catch his breath. Jeff wondered if that was it until Adrian looked up to glare at the queen with a pair of pale blue eyes. At first he didn't understand Jensen's gasp, but then the realization hit him - Adrian had been made into a sub.

"I do not accept this," he choked out. "I will not be owned."

Michelle looked at him, her face back into that ice mask, although Jeff wondered if the expression was real for Adrian. "Then I will exile you outside the city. If you ever enter our gates, you will be given the collar of the unwilling and auctioned off. No one will give you aid in the forests." She looked over at Jeff for confirmation.

"We sure won't," he agreed, making a mental note to mention it to the captain. Adrian would either end up dead of starvation or enslaved against his will. Still poor choices for the evil he had done, Jeff couldn't think of anything more fitting. Death would be far too quick for the former duke.

"Guards, take him out of here," she ordered.

"No!" Adrian screamed as he was led out of the room. His cries could be heard long after the doors closed behind him.

"Commander Morgan." The queen regarded him. "I'm sorry for what you have suffered here."

The words were meant for Jensen, who answered. "I'm just glad no one else will suffer any more."

Peter looked away, wiping at the tears that flowed down his cheeks. "It will take time to fix this, Pasdar is corrupt to its very core."

"We will wash it clean." Michelle gripped her sword again, tapping the end of the blade against the dark rock of the floor. At the touch, streams of gold scattered along the ground, changing the color to a pale gray. All the stone started to change, the dark dour room becoming filled with light, the flickering candles becoming the same hovering bulbs that lit her own palace.

It was just a start, Jeff thought, but they were certainly on the right track. He looked over at Jensen, pale and trembling still. First they'd visit the healers, but then, home.


	22. Chapter 22

Jeff heard the shower running when he entered the quarters he had shared with Jensen these past weeks. He had returned here after finding Jensen missing from the infirmary, where Jeff had left him while contacting the captain and finalizing things with the queen. Another shuttle would be waiting for them, but not until Jensen felt up to traveling.

Jensen's black duty uniform had been spread out on their bed, his pack sat open against it, still organized with military precision. Jeff's own clothing felt sticky and heavy against his skin. His jumpsuit hit the floor after he toed off his boots; glad he had a spare uniform in his pack. When he opened the door and caught sight of Jensen's form under the water, Jeff had to stop to catch his breath.

The sight of the water rolling off of Jensen's skin always did something for him, had arousal curling in his gut like an old friend. But now it merged with fear, at how close he had come to losing Jensen forever. He stepped inside the shower, coming up behind Jensen who stood with his head bowed, leaning against the colorful tiled wall.

"Jeff," he said, one word.

"Shh," Jeff murmured. He stepped behind Jensen and smoothed his hands over his back, just watching his fingers follow the path of Jensen's spine, causing the other man to arch into his touch. "You're so beautiful."

At those words Jensen stiffened. "That's what everyone says."

"Jensen."

"My body hasn't belonged to me in a long time," Jensen's voice was resigned, free of the bitterness Jeff would have expected.

"It's not just your body I want," Jeff said, not sure if Jensen believed him. He leaned down to nuzzle the back of Jensen's neck, his lips following his hands as they smoothed their way to Jensen's waist. He cupped Jensen's buttocks, squeezing the fuzzy skin like two large peaches. Grinning at the thought, Jeff slid to his knees and parted Jensen's cheeks, revealing his clenched hole.

Jensen whimpered as Jeff blew on it slightly. He reached out with his tongue, taking a tentative lick at first. When he got a response, Jensen shuddering under him, Jeff tried it again, tracing the lines of skin till he got Jensen to relax for him, to open just a bit. The healers had done their job, Jensen seemed perfect, not red and swollen like before.

"Fuck me," Jensen whispered.

Jeff pulled back in surprise. "Jensen," he said, not sure how he felt about that. He didn't know the extent of what Adrian had done, but Jeff could guess.

"I want you to," Jensen said, turning his head and all but glaring at Jeff. "I want YOU to."

Oh, Jeff got it suddenly. He pushed himself to his feet and met Jensen's lips in a soft kiss. "Anything you want," he promised.

Droplets of water gathered on Jensen's eyelashes, collecting like tears that never fell. Jeff gave in to the impulse to rain kisses down Jensen's brow, tasting clean water and salty skin. Jensen pressed his hands against the tile wall, spreading his legs and canting out his hips. Jeff kept one possessive hand on the rounded curve of Jensen's ass, reaching out with the other to collect lube from the convenient pump in the shower. He would really miss this place.

His fingers slid inside Jensen, encased by tight heat. Jeff closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the side of Jensen's face, breathing in the citrus shampoo, tasting nothing but Jensen on his tongue. Jensen moaned at his touch, rumbling deep in his chest as Jeff continued to stretch him.

"Ready?" Jeff asked, pulling out and spreading Jensen's cheeks, his cock, hot and heavy at the well-lubed entrance.

Jensen nodded, his eyes closed. Jeff pushed himself inside with short careful motions, waiting with each breach of muscle to make sure Jensen had relaxed, had opened to him. His body welcomed Jeff inside, so hot and impossibly tight.

Jeff reached out and entwined his fingers with Jensen's against the tile, keeping Jensen against the wall with nothing but his own body. He rolled his hips into Jensen, thrusting inside sleepy slow. It had been forever since he'd made love like this, so careful and lazy, like they had all the time in the world.

"I don't deserve you," Jensen gasped, and Jeff wondered if those weren't droplets of water now, streaming down his cheeks.

Jeff licked away the bitter tears, tightening his fingers around Jensen's hands. He couldn't speak, knew Jensen might not believe him anyway. So he did the only thing he could, held on tight and filled Jensen with his cock, pulling one hand away to encircle Jensen's erection, his dick slippery and swollen.

"Come for me," Jeff whispered, lips pressed tight against Jensen's ear.

Jensen whimpered, jerking his hips without rhyme or reason, caught between Jeff's hand and his cock. He came with a sharp cry, hot come spilling into Jeff's fingers. Jeff shifted his grip, holding Jensen still as he raced towards his own completion, filling Jensen's insides with his semen.

When he moved to pull out, Jensen reached out with one hand, finally letting go of the wall. "Stay," he said. "Just a little bit longer."

And Jeff did.

***

Maggie wished she had gotten to see more of this place, other than the inside of the palace, the tram and that fucked up dungeon where Jensen had been held prisoner. She waited with Whitfield and Chikezie on the same terrace where they had landed, a tram hovering just off to the side, waiting for Commander Morgan to arrive.

It seemed everyone and their grandmother had come to see them off. The queen, and her sub, the gray haired man Maggie had seen for the first time; the princess and her sub; Peter, the sub who'd helped them rescue Jensen; Major Tappen and his master. And there were even more people Maggie didn't know, so she just stayed back with the equipment, waiting.

The conversation died down and Maggie looked over to see that Commander Morgan and Lt. Ackles had finally arrived. Jensen tugged at the collar of his uniform, standing a little bit behind Morgan. His gaze flickered over to Maggie for a moment and she attempted a smile. Still the image of him behind her eyes - naked and in pain, a victim of sexual torture - lingered. Maggie had to swallow down the bile in her throat, never expecting to come face to face with the realities of being a Sex Corps soldier.

"Finally getting out of here," Whitfield muttered from her side. He leaned over and hefted one of the equipment boxes.

Maggie frowned, not quite as eager to go. She'd barely scratched the surface of the technology here and she doubted she'd get the chance to ever do more than that. But she took the distraction and moved to grab her own crate of supplies, letting the motions of work override the direction her thoughts had taken.

***

Jensen felt overdressed, and yet oddly naked without the collar that Adrian had cut off. It wasn't a special memento or anything, just part of the equipment he had in his bag. But Jeff had put it on him, and it had been a symbol of what they had between them while in Harmony.  Jensen knew once they made it back on the Mercury, everything would change.

The queen had approached Jeff as they made their way out onto the terrace. Jensen's eyes widened at the large group that had come to see them off. He saw Maggie attempt a smile and had to look away. He'd been laid bare before all of the Corps soldiers there, and while Jensen had thought he was long past shame, he found that wasn't entirely true, not in front of these soldiers.

"You have done us a great service, Commander Morgan," Michelle said. She looked at Jensen as she spoke. "Without you, a great blight would still be in our city. I only wish you hadn't had to suffer so."

Jensen caught sight of Peter - Levi now, again - hanging back, looking pale and out of place without a collar. He'd only had to suffer for a day, Levi had been enslaved for five years. He heard Jeff give their farewells to the queen, then they moved down the line, to say good-bye to everyone.

"Sub Jensen," Levi said, standing stiff and tall.

Rolling his eyes, Jensen gave in to his impulse to give the younger man a quick hug. "I forgave you the instant you asked," he whispered before pulling away. "What now?"

Levi shrugged. "Healer Nicci said she would take on a contract with me." His cheeks flushed as he spoke and Jensen remembered the way Nicci had fussed over Levi in her ward. "But I think I'll need some time first, before I'm ready for another master."

"I think you're on the right track," Jensen told him. He hoped Levi would have the chance to know what a true master was like, that he hadn't been broken beyond repair.

"Jensen!" he heard just before a small body slammed into his. Jensen reached down and ruffled Colin's hair.

"Hey kid," he murmured. This time he'd get to say goodbye to Colin. He wished the boy well, hoped he figured out his worries about training and his place as a sub. Jensen watched as Jeff moved to say his own goodbyes to Levi. Hell, you didn't have to be a kid to not know where you fit.

***

Jeff saved Major Tappen for last - well Sub Henry now, although he was pretty sure if he called Tappen by that name he'd have to dodge the fist to his face. "You gonna be okay here?" he murmured, though he was pretty darn sure Ian was listening to every word.

Tappen gave him one of his crooked grins. "You know me sir, I always land on my feet. I'm like a cat like that."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Tappen's grin faded. "I'll do just fine, sir. Once I can convince this idiot that I can take care of myself in the field."

Now it was Ian's turn to roll his eyes. "Someday you will learn proper respect."

"And that'll be the day you drop my contract," Tappen scoffed.

Jeff decided that Tappen was going to be just fine.

***

Morgan and Ackles were already in the ready room when Loretta arrived, Morgan trying to look like he hadn't been playing with the malachite paperweight on her desk and Ackles staring out the window viewer, hands clasped behind his back. The Desert Moon hovered just outside, the ship that had arrived about a week late to deal with the Confed, but just in time for the personnel transfer.

Good thing Morgan had found Ackles, Loretta knew a few people who'd be more than pissed off if Ackles missed his transport. Course, she could wave the nicely brokered base agreement to counter that. These men had done damn good work.

"Well, Captain Ackles, it's good to see you safe and sound," she said.

He'd turned around to answer before she saw the realization in his eyes. "Sir?"

Loretta grinned at him, glad for once to be giving good news. "Promotion just came through. Good work, soldier."

Morgan grinned. "Congratulations, Captain."

Ackles ducked his head. "Thank you."

"You both did good work down there." Loretta dropped into her desk chair and tapped the tablet on the desk. "I'm looking forward to reading your full reports."

This time when Morgan and Ackles exchanged looks, Loretta got the feeling there was more going on. Ackles just had something in his eyes; he looked so different than the cocky lieutenant who'd stepped on her ship all those weeks ago. Now she really wanted to know what exactly happened down there.

"The Desert Moon brought a construction crew to begin the progress on the base. Some of your people are due shore leave, Commander. The files are in your comm. As are your new orders, Ackles."

"Shipping out tomorrow?" Ackles asked, his voice lacking any inflection.

She nodded. "As soon as the cargo is unloaded and the transfers complete."

"Wait," Morgan interrupted. "There needs to be a dom/sub team to liaison with Harmony. We agreed to it in the contract."

Loretta nodded. "That's been covered with the personnel transfer." She tapped the button on her desk. "Send them in."

The doors slid open, revealing the two young Scuts she'd only met when the Desert Moon arrived. Ferris had sent them at Loretta's request. They certainly met the requirements, the girl was a blond slip of a thing that wouldn't look out of place among Harmony's subs, or so Loretta assumed. She really had to get to those reports.

"Ackles, I should have known," the girl laughed.

"Bell." Ackles gave her a grin. "They sent you to take my place? Are they that hard up for help?"

She punched his shoulder, although Ackles dodged at the last moment. Loretta figured they had probably known each other for a while.

Ackles confirmed by introducing her to Morgan. "Captain Kristen Bell. We were at the Academy together. And Lieutenant Hodge?"

The other Scut nodded. "Yes, sir. I was a few years behind you both. I hope to live up to the Ackles legend."

Ackles shook his head. "Oh, really, you don't want to do that."

Morgan strode across the room and Loretta knew she wasn't imagining the glower on his face. "I suppose you're vouching for these two soldiers?"

Ackles grew serious. "Of course. Sir. I do think it's necessary to review the circumstances on Harmony with them. There are nuances not obvious in the mission reports."

"Do that, Captain," Loretta ordered. "Commander Morgan can debrief me."

Once again the two men exchanged looked and she knew she was missing something. Loretta decided she'd give Morgan the grilling of his life. Although just as Ackles was leaving with his comrades, she thought she might have it figured out, the way the young man sent back a longing glance at Morgan, as if he didn't want to leave the man's presence.

Well, well, well. Now wasn't this unexpected. She'd have an especially long message to send to Ferris later.

***

Aldis had heard stories about Jensen Ackles at the Academy - who hadn't? He'd been one of the Sex Corp's greatest successes, right before his demotion. Aldis had wanted to ask about that, remembering the whispers about how Ackles had stormed out of General Jim Beaver's office and slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a dent that the cadets still talked about.

Right now, sitting in the quarters Captain Bell had been assigned on the Mercury, Aldis couldn't see that kind of temper. If anything, Ackles looked distracted, unable to sit still, wandering around the room, poking at the appliances in the kitchenette, and rarely looking either of his fellow Scuts in the eye.

Bell didn't seem to notice, she had been taking notes for the past two hours, barely looking up from her tablet. She would be going in as the sub, because of her eye color, despite the fact that she outranked him. Aldis had made a crack about that on the voyage over, only to have Bell smile sweetly and reply, "That just means you'll have to do all the hard work, Hodge. Subs just get to sit back and orgasm."

How did that woman get the best of him every damn time?

"One last question, Ackles," Bell frowned down at her tablet, probably realizing she wouldn't be able to refer to it every time she needed it down on planet. "What's the one thing we can't forget under any circumstance?"

Ackles finally stopped messing with the coffee maker and turned to face them both, leaning against the wall. "Two things, I guess. Contracts rule everything down there. You can even admit you're only together because of the mission. But they'll respect you more if they believe there is honest affection between the two of you. Think you can manage that, lieutenant?"

Aldis threw him a sloppy salute. "Yes, sir. Nobody can fake affection better than me."

Ackles rolled his eyes. "And they'll see through that faster than you think. It's like a planet filled with hundreds of General Ferris. I sure hope you like this guy, Bell, otherwise your mission is fucked."

"We've worked together before," Bell supplied. "I'm sure it will be fine."

"Under normal circumstances, probably. But the queen is going to be looking for lies. She's got a mess on her hands with the Pasdar problem."

Right, Hodge thought, the guys that held Ackles prisoner in a failed attempt at rebellion. "Maybe we can offer to help with that," he suggested. "Earn us some good will."

Ackles finally looked at him, quirking a grin with those pretty lips. "Hodge, there may just be hope for you yet. 

***

Jensen let his shoulders drop the closer he got to Jeff's quarters. Not that it wasn't fun talking shop with Kristen and Aldis, speaking to people who simply got what he meant when he referred to how things were on 328. But he wanted this last night with Jeff so badly, knowing that tomorrow he'd be gone.

The red duty uniform he'd changed into once onboard felt heavy on his skin, stiff and scratchy compared to the soft clothes in Harmony. The color set him apart from the rest of the Space Corps and their blue uniforms, and it was just another reminder of where his duty lay. He paused just outside of the door, his hand raised to slide over the sensor to open it.

Part of him wanted to turn around and find someplace else to sleep, pick up his things from Jeff's room in the morning and avoid seeing him again. It would make things easier. Jeff deserved so much more than a broken slut who got off no matter who was fucking him. Hell, Jensen had got off on being raped, that sure wasn't a quality most people looked for in a mate.

But he couldn't walk away, because he wanted to be with Jeff so badly. Jensen's body ached, as if it remembered how Jeff had touched him, marking Jensen's skin with his hands and lips. He thrummed inside, needing to feel that touch again. Jensen wanted to take the memory of Jeff's body inside his, the way they melted together, like they could never be separated. He wanted to hold on to that, even when he had to let someone else fuck him.

Jensen touched his fingers to the sensor, surprised when the door simply slid open. Jeff must have given him access to his room, which made sense since all of Jensen's things were still packed neatly in his duffel bags, with the exception of the few toys he'd taken to 328 with them.

He walked into the dark room, the only light coming from the terminal in the corner, its glow enough to illuminate Jeff under the covers of his bed, one arm thrown over the extra pillow.  Jensen smiled at the sight, Jeff looked like he missed having a warm body lying next to him. He stripped off his uniform, toeing off his boots with record speed. Relieved to be naked again, free of the weight of responsibility for the moment, Jensen pulled back the covers and tucked himself in next to Jeff.

Jeff responded by rolling over and pinning Jensen to the bed. "Did you think you could sneak in here and not wake me up?"

Jensen smiled up at him, though he couldn't make out much more than the shadows of Jeff's face. "I know better than that. Lights, 20 percent," he ordered, not wanting to do this in the dark.

Jeff's thickening cock brushed against his as Jeff ground their hips together. "Missed me, huh?"

"Yeah, especially after going over the mission in detail." Jensen licked his lips.

"Don't tell me how much detail," Jeff moaned, leaning down to nibble at Jensen's mouth.

Jensen closed his eyes and relished the feel of Jeff's lips against his, so soft and gentle when he wanted to be, but always a moment away from biting and forceful. Jeff tried to be whatever Jensen needed. He'd learned a lot down there, Jensen thought, catching his fingers in Jeff's thick hair, mussed by sleep so that it stood up in a hundred different directions. Jensen wondered if he hadn't done the other man a disservice, teaching him the secrets only to leave just as soon as they vacated Harmony.

Jeff pulled away, his breath warm against Jensen's chin. "Stop thinking so much."

"Make me," Jensen said, a challenge as he jerked his chin up, hoping the spark in his eyes matched the fire he saw in Jeff's.

With a sly looking smirk, Jeff took Jensen by the wrists and held his hands up over their heads. "Too bad I can't just think you into restraints here."

Jensen twisted and pulled, attempting to break free. He relished the tight grip, Jeff's fingers digging into his arms hard enough to leave bruises. Jeff's body, heavier by height and mass, kept him down on the bed, unable to move unless Jeff wished it. Jensen's cock swelled even further, so hard he thought he'd never soften again.

"You actually have to work for it," he teased, the taunting lessened by the gasps he had to take between words.

"Mmm," Jeff growled into his ears. "If I tell you to keep your arms up here, you're damn well going to keep them there."

"Yes, sir." Jensen arched his back, pushing up against Jeff, enjoying how it felt to squirm, to brush his cock up against Jeff's thigh.

Jeff slid back, nuzzling against Jensen's bare chest, his stubble grazing him slightly, sending prickles of sensation along his skin. Jensen could finally enjoy this, no longer over-sensitized from his time in the Oubliette. Damn it, he didn't want to be thinking about that now, he wanted to enjoy this, to think only of Jeff.

And Jeff made it easy to forget the world. He mouthed down Jensen's abdomen, licking at the bare belly button almost disappointedly. Jensen would be getting a different tracer once on the Desert Moon, but this was the first time he'd miss one. Just the thought of how Jeff loved to play with that thing had him leaking precome, dick straining towards Jeff.

"I have plans for you," Jeff said, kissing the head of Jensen's cock with an obscene noise.

How could this man make him want to laugh and moan at the same time?

"I want to ride you," Jeff said, coming up to straddle Jensen's waist, looking down at him with a serious dark gaze. At first Jensen didn't get the connotation, Jeff had ridden him hard for weeks, what was the difference now?

And then Jeff poured the lube into Jensen's outstretched palm. "In me," Jeff ordered, voice husky as he lifted himself up and spread his legs, leaving just enough room for Jensen to slip behind his heavy balls - so soft as his fingers brushed against them - to seek out his tight hole.

Jeff rocked against him, rolling his hips into Jensen's fingers, fucking himself with short motions. Even like this, being opened up in the most intimate way, Jeff was still in control. This man, Jensen thought, his chest tightening with aw, this take charge soldier, this grieving widower, this dom was everything Jensen had hoped for, but never thought he'd find.

And now he was leaving, again. For once Jensen wanted with everything inside him to stay, to belong to Jeff. But Harmony was just a fairy tale he'd visited for a while. Out there the Confed and the war waited. And Jensen had his job to do; his body didn't really belong to him at the moment.

"Slick yourself," Jeff ordered, pulling away and breaking Jensen out of the way his mind had wandered.

"Fuck," Jensen murmured. He slid the hand that had just been inside Jeff up and down his own cock, already a bit slick from the leaking slit. Jeff watched him with dark eyes, and Jensen strained to see approval there, that he was doing well, doing just what Jeff had asked.

"That's my slut," Jeff murmured as Jensen moaned, arching into his own hand. "My turn."

Jeff straddled him again, shifting up on his knees to line himself up with Jensen's cock and slide. Down. So. Fucking. Slowly.

Jensen may have cursed his mother. But really, Jeff could be a sadistic bastard when he put his mind to it, and Jensen liked it.

Jeff arched his body as he moved, his head thrown back to show the straining muscles in his neck as he worked himself down onto Jensen's too hard cock. Jensen bit his lip and hoped he would last. Jeff was so damn tight, too tight.

When he'd seated himself fully, Jeff gave him a shit-eating grin that Jensen had to return. Jeff leaned forward, lifting himself off a bit, to bite at Jensen's lips. He interlaced their fingers together, gripping Jensen's hands tightly and holding them down on the bed as he rolled his hips, rocking onto Jensen's body.

Jensen dug his heels against the mattress, fighting with himself not to come, not to arch into Jeff's body. He wanted to roll the other man over, to drive himself into that tight ass until everything whited out into perfect orgasm. But Jeff controlled the pace, the slow movement that Jensen felt sure was going to kill them both.

"Please," he murmured. "C'mon, ride me."

"You want it so bad," Jeff whispered, almost as if talking to himself. He picked up the pace, nearly losing the rhythm as he lost himself in the movement of his body.

"Come on me," Jensen begged, unable to lift his hands to touch Jeff's thick red cock. It slapped against Jensen's belly, forcing him to watch, remember how much pleasure he'd received from it. If he were more flexible, he'd arch up and take it into his mouth right now, but Jensen was no Misha. The best he could hope for was Jeff to mark him with hot strands of his come.

Jeff moaned at his words, letting go with one hand to jerk himself with stuttered motions, as if he were too far gone to keep up a good rhythm. He arched into his hand and then slammed back down on Jensen. Jensen cried out, so close and unable to hold back.

He threw his head back as he came, just as Jeff's hot come covered his chest and belly. Jensen wanted it all over him, wanted to smell like Jeff always, to be marked as his property. He filled Jeff's body, marveling at the exquisite tightness, the perfect moment where he felt stretched out and connected to Jeff at the same time.

Jeff eased off slowly, rolling off to the side as he panted.  "Stars, is it always gonna be like that?"

"Like what?" Jensen asked, already drowsy with sleep. He should wipe himself off, or else they'd be stuck together in the morning.

Jeff shrugged, nuzzling against Jensen's shoulder, one arm already thrown over his chest. "Like . . . fucking incredible."

Jensen laughed softly, turning his head to brush a kiss against Jeff's forehead. "Yeah," he told him. "It's always gonna be like that."

He wished it were a promise he could keep. Jeff knew the score, though, he had to. Jensen would be gone in the morning. He couldn't ask Jeff to make any promises, not when neither of them knew if Jensen was even coming back. He'd been lucky enough to survive in the field this long, but Jensen knew that Scuts often didn't make it.

Jeff needed someone he could count on, someone he could come home to in the evenings. Not another soldier who had his own duty. Jensen wondered what Jeff's wife had been like, the woman he'd left behind who had died. He couldn't do that to Jeff again.

As his eyes closed Jensen had made up his mind. Jeff shouldn't be tied to him. Best make it a clean break.

***

"Did you think you'd be able to sneak out of here without me knowing?" Jeff asked, knowing he hadn't hidden any of his anger.

Why should he? He'd barely caught Jensen before he'd made it out of the door, both packed duffels slung over his shoulders, not a scrap of his possessions anywhere in Jeff's quarters.

Jensen's head dropped and his shoulders slumped. "You have to let me go," he said, his voice low and broken.

"The fuck I do," Jeff snapped. He threw the covers off and reached for a pair of sweat pants. This wasn't the kind of conversation you had naked. He needed something to buffer him from Jensen's perfect red uniform. How did he manage to look so polished in clothes Jeff knew had spent the night on the floor?

As if knowing they were gearing up for a discussion - fight - Jensen dropped the bags and finally turned around. He face had been arranged into a careful mask, not unlike the one worn by the queen of Harmony. But Jensen never had learned to school his eyes, which were pleading with Jeff right now. For once, Jeff could not give Jensen what he wanted.

"Jensen," he said, deliberately using his lover's name, forcing him to acknowledge this thing between them. "You think I can just let you go? Look at me." He forced Jensen's face up, capturing his chin between his fingers. "That's not what you want."

Jensen reached out with two hands, as if to push Jeff away, however, he didn't get that far, leaving them to rest on Jeff's bare chest, burning hot against his skin. "What I want doesn't matter. It's never mattered."

"Bullshit."

"Not according to the UP government," Jensen snapped, eyes alive with green fire. "I have one more year on my duty tour. You think you can deal with it? An entire year of other people having me? Fucking me? Touching this body you think is yours?"

"It is mine," Jeff growled. He saw red at the idea, other men taking, using his Jensen. Jeff had wanted to slam Adrian into the ground and kick his head in at the mere thought of what the former duke had done to his Jensen. He couldn't let it happen again.

"No. Commander." Jensen shook his head, pulling it out of Jeff's grasp. "It's not."

"Don't do this, Jensen, don't push me away." Maybe if he kept repeating it, Jensen would listen.

"What else am I supposed to do?"

Jeff hated how broken Jensen sounded, the way his face fell like he'd given up all hope. "You don't give up on me," Jeff told him, "And I won't give up on you."

Jensen rolled his eyes. "You're such an optimist."

"And you look like you could use some of that." Jeff ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. He just wanted to shake Jensen. "In a perfect universe, if you didn't have to be on the Desert Moon, would you still walk out that door?"

Jensen closed his eyes. "You know I wouldn't. But you damn well know I have to go."

Jeff nodded. "And I have my own obligations. To 328, and 511, and the entire fucking reclamation project. That doesn't mean we can't make this work."

"Jeff." Jensen finally looked at him again, that mask crumbling. "Where I'm going you can't comm me. I'll be in deep cover, infiltrating the very heart of the Confed. I might not come back. Can you live with that?"

Could he? Jeff's heart pounded against his chest. Katie was supposed to have been safe, in their cabin, waiting for him. But she died anyway. There was no such thing as safe, not in this universe.

"I'm going to have to, aren't I?" Jeff said softly, giving in to the temptation to caress Jensen's smooth cheek. "Because I can't let you go."

"Jeff," Jensen whispered, letting Jeff come close and kiss away any more objections.

"I'll send you messages," Jeff promised, "Fill your commbox so when you get home you'll have to spend days reading and listening to my voice . . ." He kissed Jensen's eyelids, his nose, the freckles that dotted his cheeks, memorizing the feel of him, how his skin tasted.

Jensen let out a little laugh. "I'm going to have a hard time getting rid of you, aren't I?"

"We'll just have to see who's the more stubborn," and although it was close, Jeff had a feeling he'd be the one winning out.

"All right," Jensen said, pulling Jeff closer.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jensen closed his eyes as he parted his lips, letting Jeff dive in and taste. The kiss was open and wet, Jeff holding Jensen tightly, catching one hand in his hair. He'd have to remember this.

Jensen's comm crackled. "Captain Ackles?"

Jensen pulled away and touched a button. "Go ahead."

"The last shuttle is about to depart for the Desert Moon. We're waiting on you."

"I'll be there in ten." Jensen closed the connection. "Jeff. . ."

"Don't say goodbye," Jeff said. He stole one last kiss, sucking hard at Jensen's lower lip. This kiss they'd both remember.


	23. Chapter 23

Epilogue

Jensen scratched idly at his chest as the door to his temporary quarters on the Desert Moon slid shut behind him. He took a moment to enjoy the luxury of having his own room, tiny as it might be. These new ships were built with more comfort in mind than your average warship, they had to be to go this far out on the edge of known space. Although soon enough they'd be back in UP space long enough for Jensen to make the transfer to Kane's trade cruiser, and then into Confed territory.

He sat cross-legged on his bunk, plugging in the numbers for an Earth connection on the terminal. Jensen pulled at his shirt to keep it from rubbing against the nipple rings that were part of this mission's tracer. They'd also tattooed him in two places, worried about the very dangerous nature of this assignment. The more security he'd had in place, the better. One of the tattoos curled around his side, a stylized knot of lines and curves. The second ran up his thigh to curve around his hip. He wondered what Jeff would think of them, imagined Jeff running his hands and lips over the dark ink.

"Jensen?" The connection to Earth snapped into place and Jared's face appeared on the screen.

"Hey little bro." Jensen smiled, glad to talk to Jared.

"I don't suppose you commed me to tell me you're coming home?" Jared looked so hopeful that Jensen hated to burst his bubble.

"No. I had a week's downtime on the ship, but I'll be heading back into the field soon." Jensen had to find his focus, remember he was damn good at his job. He had bundled up his memories of Harmony and Jeff, tucking them into a corner of his mind, hiding them away for the time being. Nothing could interrupt him getting into the proper character. Calling Jared, the last thing he did before leaving on any mission, only helped create the facade.

"You look awfully happy to be heading back to work," Jared said, peering at him. The reception had improved greatly, though they were still stuck in 2D at the moment.

Jensen could feel the blush creeping up. "It's not the mission I'm happy about." He wondered if he should tell Jared at first, but they'd shared everything in their lives, having no other family. Jensen couldn't hide this. "I met someone," he said finally.

Jared blinked. "Who knows about the Corps stuff?"

Jared would worry about that, if Jensen's significant other knew and didn't care about the Sex Corps. "Yes," Jensen said, biting his lip. "I think, I think this might be it for me, bro."

A smile curved its way across Jared's face. "Good," he said. "You deserve it."

"Still have to get through this mission first." Jensen sighed. "I can't tell you much . . ."

"You never can."

"It's going to be a long one, Jared." Jensen fiddled with the sleeves of his uniform, restraining himself from scratching yet again. Oddly enough, the piercings would be easier to deal with once he got naked on the job. "Maybe a year or more. Deep cover. You know what to do, keep contacting Ferris."

"I know," Jared said. "Doesn't mean I like it."

No, neither did Jensen. "Tell me about the wedding plans," he said instead, wanting Jared to chat and be his happy self. There would be plenty of time to worry about the mission afterward.

After closing the connection an hour later, Jensen's comm beeped. He pulled up his list of messages and grinned. Jeff had kept his promise, hadn't let a day go by without sending Jensen some sort of communication. 

Maybe, just maybe, things would work out after all. Jensen had something more to look forward to after the mission. He had someone else waiting for him to come home. Jared would have Adrianne; Jensen would have Jeff. Jensen took a deep breath, centering himself. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he'd be back to Jeff.

Time to go to work.


End file.
